Don't you just hate it when your heels get all cracked and dry, looking and feeling like battered armour plated appendages that seem to be the missing link proving our connection to the great apes. The marble floors in the apartment have played hell with my feet over the past 21 months. Yes, I am cave woman, and I have the feet to prove it. Or at least I did, until about half an hour ago. Cast thine eyes downwards and behold: feet, reborn.
Why oh why have I never had a pedicure before?? I've hated my feet for ages when all I needed to do was lie back in a compfy chair, reading my book and sipping honey and ginger tea while a pink-robed magician worked magic on my tootsies, transforming them into something I'm quite proud to show off in a pair of strappy heels. Ooooooh, I feel the urge for a new pair of shoes coming on...
First I was soaked in a hot footbath of purple crystals which slowly transofrmed into a moisturising jelly. My feet were then individually wrapped in warm towels before being given a foot massage. Not one of those comfy fall-asleep massages mind you, but a proper Asian reflexology probing. Apparently any insomnia and digestive problems will be solved after a few sessions. Forty minutes later, after just a couple of squawks of protest (from me, not the masseuse!) my soles were draped in a therapeutic lotion-infused wrap and left to marinate for half an hour. After that, the real work began. I won't bore you with the details but let's just say that after the work out my feet gave her as she filed away, that woman could now arm wrestle professionally. Finally, my feet were well rubbed wtih a gentle moistuirser and it was time for me to leave.
As I slithered home, my feet so oily and slippery inside my sandals that passing motorists probably thought I had a displaced hip , I vowed I will do this every month to keep my feet in shape. Believe me, you should be grateful there are no before or after photos.
No more heels from hell for me!
No comments:
Post a Comment