My husband is hilarious (in a slightly pervy, middle aged, dude-where’s-my-car kind of way). Whenever I am heading off for a facial, he makes out like I am off to for some serious sexy-time. He’s all like “Eyyy… yeah, baby. Go on. You go enjoy your fay-SHELL”. And I’m all like, “What?! Urgh, weirdo.”
But a facial is pretty sensual isn’t it? It’s so good. And it’s relaxing, and invigorating and good for your skin. And you get to lie down for an hour IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY.
I don’t invest anywhere near enough time or money in facials, I think I need to start doing that immediately :-). I generally go about once a year, which is a good start I suppose. For Christmas last year, my excellent little brother and his girlfriend (thanks Dave and Sal!) gave me a voucher for a treatment at Endota Day Spa. I decided to upgrade and add on a facial.
Endota have spa treatment centres all over Australia. I went to the one at Rosalie in Brisbane and it was absolutely cracking. The room had the full organic vibe going on, it was decked out in earthy tones of buff and ecru, with the quintessential soothing sounds of the ocean and dolphins farting.
My beautician knew what she was doing, everything smelt nice and everything was as it should be. The only downside was that halfway through I was smashed out of my reverie by the screechy sounds of the neighbours having an almighty row. The chick was apoplectic. She’s yelling top note, “Aw fuck, you’re an asshole. Ya PRICK!” It was such a contradiction, I absolutely pissed myself laughing. Apparently they fight all the time.
Anyway. Today, here at Champagne Cartel, I’m suggesting, no actually I’m ORDERING you: go and book yourself a facial! Yes yes.
And then you need to send us a pic and tag it #champagnemoments. Because it is one of those Champagne Moments you can do pretty easily. It’s not that expensive, it doesn’t take long but feels like time slows down, but it’s great and you deserve it.