THE SPA TREATMENT

Eyelash conditioners might work. They just can't say they do.

I’ve been meaning to give an update about my test drive of eyelash conditioner RapidLash, which I wrote about and started using at the end of the summer. Today seems absolutely fitting as the New York Times reports the FDA approval of Allergan’s prescription-only eyelash-growing serum, called Latisse. It’s based on the Botox-manufacturer’s glaucoma drug, which was found to have the beneficial side-effect of longer lashes in patients using it. (The ingredient was also controversially found in Jan Marini’s Age Intervention Lash Conditioner a while back.)

Unlike Latisse, RapidLash, a cosmetic, can’t say that it makes lashes grow, because that’s a claim reserved for drugs, which have undergone rigorous, and expensive FDA clinical trials. But that doesn’t mean RapidLash doesn’t work. At the end of September, I thought I’d found the world’s greatest mascara: My lashes were long and dark in one sweep. Turns out, my lashes had grown.

Two months later, in November, I stopped using RapidLash because my lashes were, drum roll here, long enough. (Although I didn’t get any new growth in the little bald patches I have on my lower lash line.) Since then, several facialists have commented on my long, thick lashes — definitely a new compliment. And a few weeks ago I had to trim a lash because it was nearly hitting my glasses.

RapidLash uses peptides, or amino acid chains, that now power thousands of anti-aging beauty products. Peptides have been shown in lab studies to produce collagen and elastin. But there’s been industry debate and skepticism (including my own) about whether they can do anything outside the petri dish for the skin of actual people. Do you own study, if you will, or consider buying Latisse (for twice as much), which had to prove it works in order to claim it; but my report’s in. RapidLash did something for me.

Ever wonder about the selling point of vegan cosmetics? My skin is not lactose intolerant, and it quite likes a honey mask. But I’m starting to get it now, thanks to a new FDA rule that reveals the fairly pervasive use of insects for coloring — particularly the blue, red, purple tones, suggests an article in CosmeticsDesign.

Under the new rule, beauty companies (as well as food and beverage manufacturers) that use colors based on carmine and cochineal extract — both derived from the ground cochineal beetles (see the smaller female bug at left) — must now identify these by name on the ingredient list.

Until now, the FDA permitted companies to use the incredibly vague “artificial color”, “artificial color added,” or “color added” on labels, thus allowing consumers to imagine that chemical dyes were responsible their uber-blueberry yogurt or their crimson lips, perhaps. I’d hazard a guess that flying locusts would never have come to mind.

Not that I’m saying bugs are ickier than chemicals for the skin or vice versa, but wouldn’t it be nice to know what’s in your product? After all, “artificial color” is a heck of a misnomer: What’s artificial about insects? They’re the greenest ingredient on the block.

Even so, the FDA ruling has nothing to do with going green or even good karma. It’s been approved because of a number of “severe allergic reactions, including anaphylaxis have been traced to the previously undisclosed insect-based ingredients,” which have been used in cosmetics for centuries, I’d guess, so no need to sound the alarm.

But I wonder if that will mean the FDA will require nail polishes to declare these ingredients, too, since polishes are currently exempt from having to list any ingredients, and most consider the insect world fair game for their gorgeous colors. (I’m thinking probably no.)

Until the labeling changes, look for lipsticks marked carmine-free. There aren’t many to my knowledge — do add a comment if you’ve tried and recommend brand or have anything to add about how vegan cosmetics wear. As for vegan polishes, I’m a fan of SpaRitual.

Glospa Lip Wand makes chapped lips disappear

Sometimes you see the benefits of your beauty products because you’ve been applying them religiously. And sometimes you notice what the products must have been doing for you when you stop using them altogether.

Such is the case with my dry, cracked, creek-bed lips.

You can’t know what it is to have chapped lips, and to have left your go-to product, specifically intended for exfoliating them, at your desk, over the December holiday. Office locked. I almost called flagship Glospa in Denver to overnight the trusty Glospa Exfoliating Lip Wand to me. And I probably should have.

After coating my kisser every 10 minutes in whatever salve I had on hand, I was reminded that no amount of lip balm (not even Neosporin’s medicinal lip treatment product) can cure the flakes, ease the sting, and curb the persistent feeling of dryness that I typically get at least once every winter. The rough microcrystals, though a bit coarser than you’d expect from a wax-based granule, ultimately smooth the fissures and breakdown the tiny flaps.

Of course, these horrid symptoms of my devolved dermatological state are exacerbated by the fact that the area around the mouth has fewer oil glands — not my fault. What is my bad: Forgetting take my EFA supplements all but one day last week, and no humidifier, so my apartment is drier than Dubai.

By about 6 p.m. last night, I’d applied the Glospa lip treatment about three or four times, and my gob was virtually healed. All the better to gab to you about it now.

Does your holiday gift say, "You're old"?

It never occurred to me that someone might be offended by receiving a $200 face cream. Every time I’ve given one, the reception is warmer than Las Vegas asphalt (well, when it’s not coated in snow).

It turns out, though, that some people think it’s the same thing as calling them old.

Sarah, who’s 49 (and has flawless skin), automatically answered “Yes,” when I asked a group of women in the SpaFinder office if they’d be miffed if someone gave her an anti-aging cream for Christmas. Lisa, who’s probably 30 years-old at most, said No. And then went on to say how Emma, another colleague of ours, gave her Bliss’s Fat Girl Slim last year. “But she knew I wanted it.” I’d bet my last lipstick that the gift would not have been equally welcomed if given to Lisa by her boyfriend. (Unless the jar also makes an interesting imprint when lobbed at the forehead.)

It seems to me that the skill in giving face creams is all in the name: Verboten are products with the words “deep wrinkle,” “profound creases,” or “super firming” on them. Also questionable: “works like Botox”, “facelift in jar,” and “age spot inhibitor”. Even good old fashioned “anti-aging” can be misinterpreted by an age-old friend. (Probably best to choose some other way to refer to her on the holiday card, as well.)

Creme de la Mer, on the other hand, which is associated with luxe indulgence, and not bulldog-like skin folds, would be gobbled up faster than the holiday candy piling up in the SpaFinder kitchen, according to my office poll. Also, benign: exotic spa products like Red Flower, Pure Fiji, Juara, and Malie, and Kai, as well as aromatherapy, bath salts, body scrubs. Just not the ones intended for cellulite.

What do you think? Would you cautiously give or begrudgingly receive an anti-aging cream for the holidays?

I don’t know how to say this best, so I’ll just come right out with it. Organic salts do not exist. That’s in spite of the fact that your body scrub or your bathing salts can bear the toughest-to-get USDA seal confirming that it is, in fact, 100 percent organic.

What’s the deal?

Water and salt are not included in the tally of organic contents when formulations are scrutinized ingredient by ingredient. So that means only the other ingredients, maybe a sprig of organically grown rosemary or mint, count toward the bath salts’ organic status. So, not to be nasty, but it’s possible that organic salts may contain no organic contents at all and still get the seal.

Confused? Here’s the what the National Organic Program, which provides the standards for the USDA, says: “Products labeled as ‘100 percent organic’ must contain (excluding water and salt) only organically produced ingredients and processing aids.”

There are a couple of fairly good reasons the NOP doesn’t count water or salt:

1. It’s not fair to count water when it makes up 75 percent of a skin-care product. Notice that it’s almost always the first ingredient on the product label, which is organized by volume? Factoring in water would give a product a false impression of purity, the thinking goes. (Not like this doesn’t.)

2. It’s hard to tell what water and salt have come in contact with over their millions of years on the earth or during their extraction process. In other words, the water is not coming from USDA-certified organic wells.

So that’s the intriguing news. You won’t be mad if I compare organic salt to organic minerals in makeup next will you?

Spiked gazpacho still qualifies as spa cuisine

I may have a teeny galley kitchen, but I love to cook. In fact, I’ve been making the recipes we include on SpaFinder Lifestyle so that I can have something intelligent to say about them. (Yes, it’s fair to say that the SpaFinder “test kitchen” is somewhere off-site…)

For a small holiday party, I’m putting together a spa cuisine menu that’s culled from our recipes and from my growing collection of gorgeous spa cuisine cookbooks. Rancho La Puerta, Mii Amo, and Gwinganna recently released fabulous examples of the genre—great (not obscure) ingredients, recipes that don’t require hours of prep, photos galore—and some of my guests will be getting copies as gifts (shh!).

In a few cases, I’m going off script. For example, I thought I’d turn the Golden Gazpacho recipe from Terry Conlan at Lake Austin Spa Resort, in Texas, into an amuse bouche by serving it in shot glasses—and spiking the soup. (Terry, don’t kill me!) My grandmother used to decant sherry into her delicious tomato bisque, but I bet I can find an organic vodka that would work. Which do you think is better? Or, more spa-like? Sherry or vodka?

Out damned sun spot

I’m always thrilled when a product actually works. So, after blowing through two bottles of Caudalie Vinoperfect Radiance Serum (and using the Vinoperfect day and night creams), I’m astounded to report that a dark spot next to my eye that I’ve tolerated for a decade has almost completely faded away.

Just to be clear, I have lasered this spot, peeled this spot, and attacked it with virtually every chemical shy of hydroquinone — including AHAs, vitamin C, retinols. Nothing has done the job. But just recently I’ve found that facialists don’t even notice my shameful sun damage under their magnifying glass.

The ingredient Caudalie uses is viniferine, a molecule they’ve extracted and stabilized from the grape stalk. While I usually look for ingredients with a proven track record when I evaluate skin-care products, this one (exclusive to Caudalie, who patented it) is now a worthy addition to my cosmetic “can-do” canon.

I shop at farmers’ markets, and eat at restaurants that are pretty obsessed with changing their menus to feature what’s just been harvested. So I get what spas are doing when they offer seasonal spa treatments—mostly facials, body scrubs, wraps, and pedicures that are themed for the bounty. And this time of year Thanksgiving-inspired spa treatments are inescapable, with massage tables resembling the setting of the famed pilgrim feast, with pumpkin peels, pomegranate body wraps, and the occasional cornmeal scrub.

But it’s a bit silly because unless the spa is making the treatment products from scratch—and I’ve certainly been to spas where pulverizing fruit and muddling herbs is done—the featured seasonal ingredients come from a pot, a jar, or a tube that was likely made, well, whenever it suited the chemistry lab. (Not to be all Ba-humbug…)

But even if they are somewhat gimmicky, fall’s seasonal spa treatments do contain some great ingredients:

Pumpkin: The enzymes dissolve dead skin cells, which makes it a great chemical exfoliant. Plus pumpkin’s full of beta carotene and is a good source of anti-aging vitamin A, which is why Stacey Spooner, spa director of the The May Fair Spa in London, uses it in a Pumpkin Full Body Exfoliation Treatment.

Pomegranate seed oil is an antioxidant

Pomegranate: It contains a big-deal antioxidant called punicic acid, so it helps the skin defend itself from free radicals, which cause premature aging. Pomega5 uses cold-pressed pomegranate seed oil in all their products. (I’m currently using the Healing Cream). And it’s an ingredient that smart folks like Dr. Murad have incorporated in their range as well. Hopefully it’s been extracted and stabilized so the antioxidants can do something for your skin.

Cranberry is an antiseptic antioxidant

Cranberry: Another antioxidant, but it’s also a natural antiseptic. When I think of cranberry, I think of Arcona Studio in Los Angeles, which has no less than eight products that feature it. They’re used in the spa’s nourishing and hydrating facials, and at many of the wonderful Auberge spas.

Just something to chew on this Thanksgiving.

I wish spas would take a hint from department stores and introduce a long-standing, tried-and-true beauty concept that has benefited and beautified women for decades: Free Gift With Purchase.

How about a sample-size moisturizer tucked into my spa locker along with robe and slippers, so I can use it after my treatment? The Remede Spa in Aspen filled my handbag with tiny packets of scrubs and serums sold in the boutique upon checking out, and recently at the La Prairie Spa at the Beverly Hills Hotel, which hands out samples galore, the locker room was also stocked with the brand, and not a second-rate drugstore range, which has strangely become standard at spas. What’s more, a sign posted on the dressing table encouraged me to ask for anything else La Prairie makes. But these are pretty uncommon practices.

Probably the most brilliant example of the Free Gift With Purchase concept I’ve experienced was at the Water Club, a new non-gaming hotel and spa in Atlantic City. Instead of chocolates on my pillow at turndown, the hotel left a sample of Being True eye cream, a product used at the hotel’s Immersion Spa. The packet contained enough cream for use that night and the following morning. I’d trade my dark circles for dark chocolate any day. And I bet a lot of spa-goers would.

Klorane Dry Shampoo can extend the life of your salon blowout for a week

I am not a blowdry-my-own-hair kind of lady. The process is a bit like making ice cream at home. My arms get tired, it takes way too much time, and others do it much better. Or, I am lazy.

But because I live and work in New York, I will get the occasional expert salon blowout. Although it costs a bundle for Breck Girl hair, I’ve discovered after spending $75 at top salons, $45 at specialty blowout salons, and $26 at Jean-Louis David—that the results are all pretty much the same. (That was my first serious penny-pinching revelation.)

But the real trick to drawing every dollar out of a ‘do is…drum roll, please…dry shampoo, which I looked at with suspicion when it landed on my desk. But I came to really like this one by Klorane, because it doesn’t smell like baby powder (although that’s essentially how it works, by absorbing the oils your scalp produces). And its non-aerosol pump makes it easy to travel with. You squeeze the bottle and it emits puffs of rice- and oat powder, an aim-and-fire practice which takes a few tries to get used to. But in my case it’s paid off, keeping my salon blowout going for a week. (Or more.)