A Double-Edged Blade

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 pouncing wasn’t the worst part. Rewind a half hour and you have a scenario that trumps the pain any tenacious pimple-popper could inflict. Just after showing me manipulated images of what my neglected face would look like in five years if I didn’t do something and do it quick, Gigi immersed my feet in a bowl of hot water and offered me a cup of hot tea. Then, she filled the seat beside me and pulled out a flip chart. Introducing: the Obagi skin-care plan.

Page by yawn-inspiring page, Gigi recited the propaganda verbatim. Like a Kindergarten teacher, she propped the pages with pictures before me for emphasis. “See the difference?” she asked me of before and after photos. “Hmm, how much of that do you think is Photoshop?” I challenged.

About 40 minutes later, the aesthetician was a PowerPoint presentation away from delivering a full-blown, corporate sales pitch. My feet felt like raisins and my hot tea had developed a chill. After I declined the $500 skin-care plan with three easy steps (knock off Proactiv much?), the saleswoman/aesthetician showed me to the facial room.

Revage estimates the entire appointment should take 50 minutes. We already exceeded that time and the scalpel had yet to make an appearance. When Gigi finally tore its packaging to remove the surgical blade and began dermaplaning, I felt like I’d spent the last hour waiting for a tardy first date: This better be worth it.

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.”) but it couldn’t quite deter the bad taste left in my mouth. The sales pitch, not the mangosteen, left me wincing.

Revage Medical Spa is located at 1215 S. Fort Apache #145, 989-2410, revagemedicalspa.com

Contact fashion reporter Xazmin Garza at xgarza@reviewjournal.com or (702) 383-0477.