I'm going through a slightly obsessive Korean jag lately fuelled possibly by YouTubing way too many K-Pop music videos and consuming way too many Shabu-Shabus. I decided to try a Korean Facial as my reasoning is all the chicks in the K-Pop vids look great so ergo, they must know what they are doing in the skin care stakes. Yep, I have primitive reasoning skills.
Off I traipsed. Overall it was a disconcerting experience although my skin does look and feel more hydrated. I had planned to dip a tentative toe in the whole Korean Facial experience and just go with the basic 60 min package. However upon arrival, my aesthetician assessed I had quite a few skin issues (pigmentation and wrinkles) that needed to be addressed pronto and recommended I upgrade to a 90 min package which cost twice as much. A sure fire way of making me fork out fistfuls of cash - play on my insecurities and vanity.
I had researched that Koreans specialise in using different hi-techie equipment in their facials. So it's a bit different to the usual cleanse, exfoliate, mask, etc. I was expecting gadgets and machinery and a bit of gizmo showmanship. I came armed with camera and asked the aesthetician whether I could take a few photos of myself at each step of the process for this post. Pulling out the camera seemed to have put her off side and before I knew it, I had the manager in the treatment room insisting I put the camera away as their methods are confidential.
Well really. It's like I've landed in a North Korean military base. I did manage to sneak a photo in of their equipment (see below) when they left me to get changed.
Ha! I make a good spy...
Then came the disconcerting bit. Now remember, the service I ordered was a facial not a massage with happy endings. The first 15 mins of the experience involved perplexingly enough an ultrasound to my breasts. I discovered I become totally disempowered when semi naked. My clothed persona would have asked pertinent questsions eg
what are you doing? what does an ultrasound to the breasts do? did you know I came here for a facial, not a boobie massage? However my naked self was mute although all these thoughts did churn through my head in an endless and not very relaxing loop. My sense of disempowerment was due to the fact that moments earlier I had indicated the ultrasound head was getting rather hot on my skin and got no acknowledgement. So when the aesthetician put down the ultrasound head and started oil up my chest for a hands on massage of my mammaries, I just surrendered. Another fifteen
long minutes of me lying like a starfish and my boobs were being kneaded like dough, I gave up the expectation of any treatment happening on my face.
Thankfully the inordinate breastal focus did end and with much relief I got my facial. There were frothy lotions and rubbery masks - all fun to apply. The aesthetician did whip out what appears to be an iontophoresis machine (again I was not comfortable asking what it was) which had a hand set which was rubbed onto the face vigorously whilst she weided a syringe. I did summon enough nerve to enquire what was in the syringe as I timidly figured if I was to be injected with anything I had the right to know, right? I was informed in a thick Korean accent that the syringe contained "see-wum". With that oh so enlightening answer, my enquiry ended.
This is a photo of the equipment they didn't want me to take. Interesting devices...very clinical looking...did I mention the aesthetician wore a surgical mask during the whole procedure? Lots of similiarities to a torture chamber: I was stripped naked (although that part was somewhat voluntary); my captors wore masks; my camera was confiscated; I was connected to beeping equipment which had the capability of inflicting 3rd degree burns; there were syringes filled with 'see-wum' for god sakes!
For all that ordeal, I have had two independent parties comment on how nice my skin looks. So will I do it again? Probably. In hindsight the boobecular focus at the start was probably their version of a value-add. So happy endings?
Beaker
