TRIED AND TESTED | Ortanic airbrush tan

I HAVE a secret to share... until April 2011, I'd never had a spray tan.

Not one.

Poor little old me, right?

For a beauty writer, though, to admit that is like a chef to admit they've never scrambled an egg. It's a somewhat (in context, people) embarrassing confession.

But there's a reason for my shying away from such activities.

How many women just looked plain orange after a spray tan? Most. Even the ones with all the money in the world to spend on the most expensive faux tans.

Even when faded down to a more natural hue, there's always a hint of Tango.

Plus, it's expensive. Um, there are plenty other things I'm happy to spend 40 quid on... per week.

And, for that wad of ten pound notes or ten dollar bills, you get a slightly neon color that last only days, making it more expensive than that gym membership you don't ever use. If you do it every week, that's a couple thousand quid down the drain.

And I've heard time and again about the horrors of the patchiness that comes with the fading process. I already have a hard enough time looking put together on a daily basis and don't need big brown patches on my legs and chest, like a bipedal Jersey cow, to make getting ready even more of a process. 

But... last month I had a wedding to attend in Cancun.

This time I wasn't going to be the ghostly pale girl in a bikini, garnering looks of pity, amid a sea of caramel-coloured hard bodies. The thing is, I do tan, but I'm never in the bleeding sun long enough to do so anymore! I longingly look at pictures from my youth sometimes, where I'm a shade of brown no helicopter parent would ever let their children achieve nowadays.

In my adult life, I'd never openly cared about being pale in a bathing suit. Sure I'd feel a twinge of jealously when a gaggle of tan girls would saunter by on the beach in Hvar or some exotic friend would seem to turn an even more exotic brown from just 20 minutes in the sun. But that twinge, I figured, was just part of being a girl (and human), so I never really caved.

This trip my vanity won out and I was ready to fake a bronzed glow for the sake of suddenly needy ego.

And, to be honest, my curiosity just sort of got the best of me. Here's this thing that I am constantly hearing about, talking about, analyzing, etc. and I'd just mentally circled the idea of fake tanning like a cautious animal. I was ready to pounce.

So I researched and researched some more. Because lord knows I wasn't sitting in the sun to develop a real tan (not that there is any sun in Chicago in April or May).

Two real options cropped up -- Mystic Tan or Ortanic. Ortanic being new, offering a $10 savings for first timers and having piles of rave reviews I decided to give it a go.

Plus, it was next to Whole Foods and I needed to do a shop.

DESCRIPTION

At the moment, Ortanic is, surprisingly, only in Chicago -- not a city known for being a beauty trendsetter or hub for that matter.

It's housed in various FFC gyms and each location has it's own, secluded room with heat lamps, ventilated booths, a no-nonsense, hand-held airbrush system, full length mirror and dozens of bottles of color (to be hand mixed by your technician).

Lauren was the technician I had that day, and boy I was glad I did. Turns out she's a trained makeup artist and avid Ortanic fan, so she was a dab hand at application and able to custom mix a shade for me based on where I was going, my natural skin tone and what I wanted (to look like I'd already been in Mexico for two weeks).

I stripped bare, although some women (and men, although I bet less so with the latter) bewilderingly leave on underwear. Seriously, girls, just take it all off. Do you really want panty lines included with your faux tan? Save the modesty for somewhere else.

You stand in the both while the technician hooks up your color to the airbrush. Then, arms out, she paints each section of your body (front, back, left side, right side, face, feet, sides of hands) methodically so that you end up with super even color everywhere.

The product smells nice and I didn't feel the least bit asphyxiated during the process.

From start to finish it might have taken 10 minutes and I was able to put on my clothes and go. There is only the gentlest of a cross sell on one of their DIY tan extender products, and she was very quick to let it go when I said no thank you.

Throughout the day, the product they applied deepened in color (I had it done at noon). It is visible when they spray it on, so be forewarned that you will look a bit like Magda from Something About Mary (as one of my sister's so charitably pointed out) while it develops. Most girls, it seems, get it done in the evening and then go straight home so they can sleep in it and shower in the morning.

If you can't do that, simply suck it up and rock a deep bronze for 8 to 10 hours, after which you can wash it off, revealing a super even, very natural (and brown, not orange) tan.

While you wait out those 8 to 10 hours you do have to be careful not to sweat or get your skin wet too.

Lauren advised to avoid very hot water (so hot showers, hot tubs, etc.) and moisturize like mad to maintain a good tan as long as possible.

Even though I went diving once in the sea before the wedding, the tan stayed up, possibly thanks to my religious moisturizing, aversion to hot water and hyper-quick showers.

My airbrush tan was, by far and away, the best accessory I brought with me to Mexico.

THE GOOD

Great, natural color, quick, lasts for 5 days, fades evenly, technicians with experience, custom-mixed color, very few ingredients, didn't smell terrible...

THE MEH

Magda-esque bronze you sport for 8 to 10 hours after it's done, too pricey to have done every week, lasts for 3 to 5 days not 7 to 10, only available in Chicago... and this last one: the name implies the product is organic BUT there's no indication or outright statement saying as much. They also utilize a lot of green on the website (images of trees, leaves, etc.), which isn't super honest use of imagery if the formula isn't, indeed, 'green' or organic.

THE DETAILS

Ortanic is available at FFC Chicago locations for $47 (bulk discounts available).

SPONSORED POST | Spa Days in London

LONDON IS brilliant, particularly when you step away from the tourist traps. Sure, some Italian school kids might love Madam Tussauds, but there are plenty of other things that make London so great (for those of us over the age of 15 and not carrying Invicta book bags).

Our favourite (not that we're biased or anything)?

The amazing spa culture hiding behind the gritty, urban facade.

Of course, spas vary wildly in the level of service, quality of products, and (this one's hard to overlook), the price one pays for treatments at the till once it's all over.

That part can hurt.

Even the poshest Sloane Ranger can find it difficult to fund their modern-day beauty habits. We know, we know, Tippy et al would be mortified if they knew we revealed their struggle to maintain that monthly standing appointment with the facialist... waxer... masseur... trainer... needle-happy doc and the rest!

But they can save their bargaining skills for the Souk!

Truth be told, it isn't hard to get spa discounts.

To save yourself public humiliation by way of haggling for that hemp oil massage, look into London spas that offer special deals to their clients. They are plentiful, particularly because of the downturn (Recovery? What recovery?).

If you have internet access (um, you’re reading this blog, right?), search online using search term 'London spa deals' and see what sites come up. Wahanda'll be be one of the top results because we regularly list as many spa deals as we can find and/or arrange in London. Plus you can participate in our MobDeals and get up to 80% off treatments all over the UK (not just London).

Spa deals are easy to find if you know where to look -- like (*cough* *cough*) Wahanda!

Happy Spa-ing!

Post is courtesy of Wahanda.com, the online home for health, beauty and wellness, with comprehensive listings of spas, salons and health centres across the globe at its very foundations.

SPA WATCH | Ten Thousand Waves, Santa Fe

I AM on edge. Winter in the Midwest is something else. Unlike any other nightmare I've ever experienced. There's no cafe culture, so my only outlet on days and times that aren't Friday or Saturday night -- the only time people in this part of the world will go out and deviate from a soul-destroying schedule of work, gym, sleep, work, gym, sleep -- is... well, no escape at all. Because it's THE GYM.

Joy.

That sounds like just the thing to make me less depressed about winter in this place. No, it really does. Swear I didn't actually get teary eyed on the flight back to Chicago from Vail in January.

As evidenced by that last statement, the trick to surviving winter here is to not spend it here. 

Might I recommend one such place that'll make you never want to come back... It's a Japanese-style onsen (bath/spa) just north of Santa Fe in the southwest called Ten Thousand Waves.

Yes, it's a bit crunchy.

Sure, there are some creepy men. (But newsflash: there are creepy men EVERYWHERE there are women wearing less than a hazmat suit.) 

It's also serenely and wonderfully woodsy, in/on the edge of Santa Fe State Park, so you can go on a hike right from your front door.

The baths (women's and mixed. They closed the men-only bath. It appears men get even creepier when left alone) are surrounded by minimal oriental, wooden decks with outdoor cold showers, plunge pools and saunas just an amble away. If you're up for it, splurge on one of the private huts with baths, showers and private decks. They're pretty sweet and run about $45 for 90-minutes per person (plus, no creepy men unless you bring them with you). You feel like a movie star renting one of the private huts, I swear.

And even during the winter it's a pleasant 55-65 during the day and 45-35 at night. Not a mind-numbing 20 below ZERO (that's zero in Farenheit, not Celsius, so a whopping 52 BELOW FREEZING, common in the Midwest). Sometimes there's snow, in which case you can do a nudie dive bomb into the powder before running back into the sauna. 

Thankfully, for now, there's no on-site bar. But we heard there's a sake bar in the works on our last trip which could make things a bit more interesting... or sloppy or both.

If you don't want to stay in Santa Fe proper (and I feel you. It can be suffocatingly touristy), there are 12 (or is it 13?) lodges on premise that are the BOMB and feel proper Japanese. We staying in one of the smallest on offer, and it was amazing. Futon-style beds, wooden screens, kimonos and slippers, hibachi grill, private patio with super cool Japanese-style gardens (rock and otherwise) and... drumroll...

Japanese toilets. The ones that can do everything, even, I suspect, your taxes. 

Early in the morning, before the main baths were open, we'd creep out in our canvas kimonos and slippers in the morning dew and scurry up the winding stone pathway to the women's pool -- open for all lodgers before the rest of the spa opened -- where we'd stew in the hot bath while reading books and drinking tea we'd snuck up from the cabin. 

We also took advantage of the spa menu, something I highly recommend doing along with bathing and sauna-ing. Not least of all because they have real therapists there. No 18 year-olds with icy hand who went to massage school because they didn't know what else to do. 

My masseur had hands like Gerard Depardieu's -- huge, in a word. And he was French to boot. Maybe he was his cousin. Or brother...

I think one paw covered the girth of my back. Mr. Magic Paws was In. To. His. Work. And I came out the other end as soft as a stick of butter sat on the counter all day. No more knots in my back. Or neck. Or anywhere. 

I'm still on the hunt for someone with similar talent (and hand girth) locally. My last massage here was given by a man who had hands the size, softness and strength of a five-year old girl's. Not exactly Magic Paws. 

The only downer (other than aforementioned creepy dudes) is the lack of on-site food. Fair enough as they only have 12 lodges and everyone comes there for the atmosphere, treatments and amenities. But they wouldn't go amiss with something, even a small sushi bar for the lodgers. Because, man oh man, were we hoooongry (so hungry we were almost hangry (hungry angry) sometimes and didn't feel like driving into town and sifting through the tourist trappy restos.

That aside, I'd happily take up permanent residence (at least to winter) here and no doubt would look, feel, smell (stress makes me stink), sleep et al better.

DETAILS:

Japanese style baths and spa above Santa Fe in the Sangre de Cristo mountains in/near Santa Fe State Park. Beautiful, manicured landscape done in, duh, Japanese style that weaves itself up and amid the mountain range's foothills. It's wooded, quiet and private. There are several public baths and saunas and indvidual bath houses. 12 private, minimal (but gorgeous) Japanese lodges that vary in size and amenities. Treatments available from massage to facials. The prices are pretty standard in the US, meaning everything is priced as, sadly, a luxury. 

Located just a mile north of Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Lodging runs from $119 to $269, treatments run $65 to $179 and hot baths runs from $18.80 to $49. However, the communal hot baths, sauna, etc. are complimentary to lodgers. 

Ten Thousand Waves