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BEAUTY QUEEN: A Double-Edged Blade
Fashion reporter Xazmin Garza finds that her pen is mightier than the blade
Abridged from the Las Vegas Review Journal

XAZMIN GARZA
Beauty Queen

I can't think of a single spa treatment that calls for as much client-aesthetician trust as dermaplaning. The second the scalpel grazes the cheek, you begin wondering if you should mention you're a good tipper and pray your allergies won't kick in.

Dermaplaning relies on a surgical blade to provide the latest, most "intensive" skin exfoliation possible. The shiny sharp object scrapes the uppermost layer of skin from your face to "improve your skin texture and tone," as the Revage Medical Spa Web site describes it. Sound painful? Not in the least. It felt like a fingernail scratch.

In fact, the only physical pain I felt during my treatment came when my aesthetician, Gigi Gonzalez, decided to put my face in a half Nelson. During extractions, Gigi waged war on a stubborn whitehead just below my nose. After three unsuccessful attempts, two with the assistance of tools, she went in for the kill. My eyes were closed but judging from the pressure I felt on my face and the pinch that brought tears to my eyes, I'm guessing she rolled up her sleeves and punched the air a few times beforehand. She lost the fight.

The precision alone deserves praise. The surgical blade can't be longer than an inch. An attached plastic handle allowed Gigi to maneuver the blade back and forth in tiny strokes over small sections of my face. For her, it had to be about as tedious as scrubbing a bathroom floor with a toothbrush. For me, with the humidifier aimed right at me and the birds chirping with the background music, it was justice.

After I grew comfortable, I asked Gigi if she'd ever nicked anyone. Scalpel in hand, she replied, "No, and I don't want you to be the first one." I didn't open my mouth again until I'd dressed myself and opened the door to find Gigi holding a champagne flute filled with a vibrant orange concoction. "What's this?"

"Mangosteen. It energizes you," she answered.

I tipped back the flute and down the thick, bitter beverage went. All I wanted to know from there was which way out and how much did I owe. Same way I came in and $130, respectively.

I left Revage two hours after my arrival time. My skin sported an angelic glow and evenness that at least one person felt inclined to mention ("Your skin looks ... really ... pretty.")

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