For several weeks now I have been dismayed during the pilates class. Initially my discomfort was caused by a complete inability to engage my stomachs (well – only one, but a casual observer may be fooled into thinking there were more) in the interests of fulfilling the pose and strengthening my ‘core’.
Laterly however the source of my agitation has been with my eyes. More accurately the bags beneath them which threaten to obscure all sight when in an inverted position – and yes, I can now assume an inverted position – of sorts.
Each shoulder bridge or down-face dog found my eye-pouches appearing like pink mounds to conceal a substantial part of my field of vision. Something had to be done.
I presented myself at the local beauty parlour, whose posters promised face lifts without surgery, peels, lymph drains and all manner of alluring (!) possibilities. The face of the receptionist fell as I suggested that my youthful beauty be restored or at least, the eye-bags reduced, in time for my daughter’s wedding 4 weeks hence. Much circular conversation later we settled on an aquapeel thingy with built in lymph do-dah.
I dutifully divested myself of all upper garments and crawled beneath the fleece blanket to lie face-up with my eyes closed on the couch as requested. Little did I know that this beauty treatment has much in common with leeching – in so far as it appeared to use living creatures to achieve its purpose – in this case it was gobbling fish…
First I was anointed with a slimy concoction smelling much like dried fish food with gritty bits. That made absolute sense when a few seconds later sucking goldfish began to crawl across and seemingly devour the paste. I know it was a goldfish … it may have been a guppy… or perhaps one of those bottom feeding types that snuffles around the edges of aquaria opening and closing its mouth as it sucks up slime.
The next fish she set grazing on my skin had a similar modus operandus – only with teeth. It felt like small pointy teeth inside a wide fishy mouth as it scratched and sucked its way into the crannies around my nose, the dimple in my chin and across my cheeks into my hairline.
My scourged face was then zapped with LED lights and soothed with a lotion smelling oddly like – you guessed it – pond water. I declined to view the ‘results’ of the process which had been proudly collected in a large glass tube…paid and fled.
My next pilates class will be the ultimate test as to whether the hillocks under my eyes succumbed to this fishy treatment, but for now I am off to replace the smell of garden ponds with my favourite, lemony soap.