Beauty - September 7, 2016

Tales of Bath | The Lush Cosmetics Spa Treatment That Was So Good I Cried

This was my first Lush Cosmetics treatment so I didn’t really know what to expect. Obviously it was gonna smell good enough to eat, that much I did know…

I went to the Lush Spa at the Oxford Street location, just a 5 minute walk from the tube. Perfecto! No one wants to turn up for a hot bath and a massage with a sweaty upper lip now do they? That said, walking down Oxford Street for 5 minutes is a sweat fest enough – they need to bring in a fast and slow lane for pedestrians, seriously.

Complete with a butler sink, a huge wooden dining table fit for a king and atmospheric dim lighting, the olde-worlde decor will make you want to take permanent residence at this place. 10o03o4050 photos later and a whole lot of slurping on cucumber water… it was officially BATH TIME.

Tales of Bath is inspired by the famous fable of Prince Bladud. During the treatment, you’re invited to join the Prince on an enchanting sensory journey to discover the healing powers of the Bath springs, just as Prince Bladud did some 2000 years ago.

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So first things first, I had to disrobe and well, get into an actual robe. No joke, I had to ring an antique hand bell to notify my masseuse that I was a) no longer naked and b) had stopped acting out scenes using the golden goblet for a prop. In my defence it was a very nice goblet.

The first part eases you into the treatment with a short head and shoulder massage as you listen to the story unfold – and by story, I mean to say a beautiful kinda loud, YouTube-esque poem. That’s right, whale music is old news guys. Tales of Bath is all about rhyming couplets and goosebumps.

For someone that finds it incredibly hard to ‘do nothing’, I found it easy to sit still. Give or take a few eyelid wobbles right at the beginning, I quickly forgot my surroundings and let the treatment work its magic.

As the poet talks of swimming in the bath springs, your arms appear to wade in time with the verse. In fact, there’s moments when you’re so in sync with the masseuse that you almost forget she’s there moving your limbs on your behalf. I mean I never realised how satisfying someone moving my head and shoulders in the smallest circle could be but it felt GOOD let me tell you.

Next you’re asked to slowly sip on your golden goblet of vegan tea… Oh. Go. On. Then. Anddd eat the fruity eye (aka rice paper) of Sulis, goddess of the thermal springs. If you’re thinking shut the front door I’m not out there enough for this treatment, then chill girl. It sounds a lot weirder than it is, cos essentially it’s a bath and a massage with some bloody lavvvly music.

Next came the bath, complete with a crystal ball bath bomb the size of my head, literally. And I have a 23 inch head (circa grad hat times, it could have grown since then you never know, it was 5 whole years ago *gasps in horror at the crêpes that were once my eyes*).

I feel like I should probably clear up the whole bath bit. The treatment does come with a 3/3 level of nakedness warning BUT you are definitely alone for it, with nothing but the mythical ripples of hot water and the gentle flicker of candlelight warming your nips. Phew.

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For this part you sit back in the bath tub, rest your neck on your lavender-stuffed pillow and listen to the rest of the story. Oh, and stare at the fairytale orb that was once your bath bomb but is now an enchanting light leading you back to your childhood. I think it was here that I cried. That’s right. It was so good and so beautiful, I cried. Now let’s not get carried away, I wouldn’t have filled up the goblet with tears or anything!

Apparently I’m not alone in my dramatic reaction though. The treatment is specifically designed to mimic water and if you’re feeling particularly emosh it’s bound to make you boo like a baby. So there I was, just a naked girl, crying in a bath tub in the middle of London. And if that’s so wrong then I don’t want to be right.

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Onto the full bod massage. Once on the bed I had a momentary reality lapse of oh crapbag, on a scale of 1-10 how hairy are my legs and how hideous are my sandal-worn feet andddd what if the massage oil gets into my hair and turns into a thick dry shampoo paste?! Meltdown over, I was back to the fairytale factory and ringing my bell again like the evil queen in Cinderella.

This is a side-lying massage, which roughly translates to: You will be hugging a huge sausage pillow/ fluffy cloud on your side before rolling (possibly with dribble attached to your mouth) over to the other side halfway through. Ok? Ok. Glad that’s off my chest.

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At one point I felt so good, I was sure I must be dead, like in a really good holistic way. Maybe it wouldn’t have been ideal for Hannah to discover her first dead but perfectly embalmed body, BUT what a way to go. By the way Hannah, Hannah, goddess Hannah with hands of butter is amazing. Forget Bath, that woman has the softest hands in Britain.

Another good thing about this treatment is you don’t get any of the ‘it must be nearly over’ fear. This is a longgg, luxurious R&R session. Time does not belong here. Time is just neg energy and you don’t need neg energy in ya life.

On leaving the Spa (cos at some point I did have to peel myself away from that sausage pillow), I looked up at the sky and exhaled, as if a God man made of bath bombs was about to reach out his wise ol’ palm and beckon me up his arm, all the way to the golden gates of an organic hemp oil heaven. I know,  the poetry must have gone to my head!

If you want to remember how good it felt to believe in fairies and happy endings (and you feel like crying alone in a hot bath) then I suggest you book it up asap.

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September 7, 2016

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