COLUMNISTS I’ve just had my first facial in eight months, and it was as pleasant as meeting an old friend. I settled under the coverlet on the therapist’s couch and relaxed into the familiar position, face tilted to receive the benediction of cleansing, mask and massage.
As the therapist’s hands worked over my skin, I puzzled over why I’d let these assignations lapse. After all, I’ve been having regular facials for 20 years as part of my job, and have always considered them “research”, albeit incredibly enjoyable research. Recently, however, I had succumbed to a combination of work pressures and recession guilt and had abandoned certain treatments.
