Pretty Boys
Why beauty salons aren't just for women

When it comes to grooming, I have a bit in common with my dog, who, when scrubbed clean with Clairol Herbal Essence, promptly goes for a roll in the dirt to get that "natural" feeling back. I shower every day, but my idea of primping is putting on a pair of clean underwear. Anais Nin once said, "A man should have a bit of a smell to him." I couldn't agree more. One phrase that has never passed my lips is, "I'm going to have my nails done this afternoon." That is, until I set about writing this article, which has been an awakening.

 It began when my friend Su who works for Beauty Arsenal looked deeply into my eyes and asked, "Have you ever thought about getting a facial?" A week later I had an appointment. When I admitted that it was my first time, one of Su's colleagues gave me a slightly horrified look. "A lot of men are realizing that it's important to look clean and have good skin," Su interjected. "Some are what you might call metrosexual," she said, invoking a term I would hear often over the next week. "There's also a lot of competition out there now in the job market now, and men need an edge to be successful. Besides," she continued, alluding to the origins of the company name, "Shanghai's pollution is so bad. It's really a battle against all the elements and aging."  

With that rallying cry, I was whisked into a soft bathrobe and set on something like a dentist's chair. I promptly fell asleep to a gentle face massage, but, a few minutes later, woke to a most terrible pain. "Don't worry," the technician said, "Just removing a few blackheads."  Facials, it turns out, often involve digging metal instruments into your nose. However, a cool aloe face mask and hot oil back massage helped to ease the nasal trauma, and in the end it was a great experience. I decided I wanted to further penetrate the secret world of women's pampering.  

My next stop was Diva Life. Located in a historic building, this nail boutique is like a teenage girl's fantasy bedroom亅lavender drapes hang from the ceiling and soft purple couches stuff the room. Yet I was not entirely on female turf, as they offer three manicures for men (¥200-300).  In fact, the manager of Diva Life confides that they have quite a few male customers: "A lot of guys come with their wives, and do it as a couple's thing. Then we have gay groups who come and make it a whole social event, like a party."    

After my diva experience, I still had my toes to do. For that I went to Frangipani. As my toe nails were buffed and polished, I sat next to a lovely French girl named Isabelle and sparked up a conversation over a glass of wine that went something like this: "Alors, Isabelle, are a man's nails important to you?" "Mais, oui, of course. I see most men's toenails and, awrgh! It ees 'orr-ible!" "Not sexy, huh?" "Def-ee-neetly not sexy."   

Afterwards, I was ready for armpit waxing. "You better have another glass of wine first," suggested owner Pauline Lee. Any woman who's had her underarms waxed knows already the torment I endured next. The upside is that my armpits are now smooth as a baby's butt.  

My final stop in this pampering extravaganza was a small boutique opposite Xiangyang Market called Frank n Sense, owned by an Irish woman named Kathy Kaiser. Frank n Sense prides itself on a low profile holistic New Age approach to facials using reiki and aromatherapy. I was excited because many of their clients are men, and their line of organic, herbal products, called Jurlique, is developed just for us. For my personally tailored facial, Kathy chose a kaolin clay cleansing mask. "When I first started 20 years ago back in London, the only men who got facials were people in the spotlight," she said. "Now it's more common people."  

Yes, I thought, peering down at my shiny, well-sculpted toenails. Why shouldn't we look after ourselves? I might stop short of describing myself as a metrosexual convert, but I have to admit, strolling around my apartment with twinkling bare feet, well-groomed hands, and silky underarms, I do feel a bit dainty. It's a feeling I daresay I could get used to.

Posted Dec 4th 2006 9:36p.m. by cityweekend
filed under Sports

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