The Thrifty Girl's Spa

Please forgive Pretty Lady's blissed-out silence. She spent the whole of yesterday in Sinful Abandon. Lacking the resources to book a day at Bliss (although she hears tell that they have gift certificates, hint, hint), she emailed a number of similarly stressed-out and impoverished girlfriends, and we all descended upon the exotic Russian Turkish Baths on the Lower East Side. So Olde Worlde! So brusque, the fellow at the desk, with the lock-boxes! (They do not take payment in advance; they simply hold your wallet hostage while you are nude and defenseless, and charge you for all the scrubbings afterward.) So primitive, the facilities! They have been there, it seems, well over one hundred years. So Pretty Lady's Spa Day may take on historical significance.

Wednesdays, as well, are Women-Only days, which added to the party atmosphere. No wimpy, sensitive gentlemen were around to complain when we added peppermint oil to the steam jet, coated the sinks and floors with sea-salt, almond oil and deep-conditioners, and freely discussed bikini waxing, while doing sauna-yoga in the nude.

It has been Pretty Lady's frequent observation, during her years at women-only bathhouses, that females who appear most lumpy and awkward in clothing are the most glorious without it. Those little coat-hanger clothes-horses show to scrawny disadvantage while bathing; it is the odd, gnome-like women who appear as Earth Goddesses in their altogether. Or so she sees it, from a purely aesthetic perspective. Any other perspective is a closed book to her, despite the most strenuous urgings of her wannabe-sex-radical boyfriends.

Later, of course, it was Sushi. Sushi is the only acceptable post-sauna repast, in Pretty Lady's opinion. So clean, so nourishing, so free of extraneous sticky grease. After that, trolling the Lower East Side funky-clothing basement shops, winter-boot shopping, and chai tea on the couch at the Himalayan café. Pretty Lady scored an uneven-hemline, gypsy-Goth white lace skirt at bargain basement prices.

Now back to our regularly scheduled drudgery. Sigh.