Shaved at the Lanesbourough Hotel

Throughout my 3 gap-year months in India, I visited the barbers regularly for a head massage and to have fledgling stubble shaved by a skilled razor wallah. To have something mundane and necessary done very well, and, most importantly, by someone else, is the most marvelous pampering.

Coupled with a massaged head, being shaved is like coming home after a hard day to find that, as well as rendering the house spotless, your cleaner has run a bath, cooked dinner, and hired a selection of your favorite DVDs.

So I was happy as a Hindu in a howdah when I was asked to try out the “La Prairie Wet Shave” at the Lanesborough Hotel on London’s Hyde Park Corner. A “deep cleansing ritual” was promised, involving hot towels and a plethora of potions made by “holistic yet ultra-chic” La Prairie, then the shave itself and a head massage. At £40, the shave is £39.95 pricier than my subcontinental de-bristlings, but that’s London for you. And although it’s expensive, it’s not exclusive. Anyone can book in, not just the £295-and-up a night hotel guests.

On arrival I was lead into a small room by Debbie, a pretty young woman in prim black. Dim purple lighting, a few candles and a large purple porthole lit up a single bed in a wood paneled chamber awash with the plangent lulling of pan pipe music. Debbie’s trim efficiency and the luxurious yet surgical setting made it feel like a James Bond Adversary’s facial reconstruction clinic. It wasn’t ostensibly a terrible change from what I’d been used to in India - a shed with a gaggle of children and a couple of dogs looking on - but would a woman know how to shave my manly yet vulnerable jaw?

Debbie asked me to take off my shirt and lie down. She covered my top half with a preposterously white towel. She encouraged me to breathe deeply. As I inhaled the essential oils with which she’s anointed her hands, she pressed various bits of my face, then rubbed goo (“penetrating serum”) all over it. It was very relaxing. Even realizing that the pan pipe music had mophed into a version of ‘Advance Australia Fair’ only jolted me briefly from drowsy peace.

Debbie then put two thick, warm, damp towels onto my face, to open up the hair follicles, and gave me a head massage, pressing down on the towels intermittently. Each time she pressed, the flush of warmth felt as if I was slipping into a warm bath.

Shortly afterwards, I was lathered up and Debbie was holding a cut throat razor to my neck. It’s never a brilliant feeling, having a sharp knife scraped down your jugular, but the Lanesborough girl handled it with aplomb.

The scraping of stubble was followed by cold towels to close the follicles, and another massage. This time it extended to my shoulders, which was great. I would have liked this closing massage to have been longer, but the final course, the application of moisturisers, was shiveringly pleasant.

Afterwards, I looked about nine years younger and my face felt oddly smooth, like someone’s skin after embalming, I imagined. I strolled homewards through the bright Belgravia streets feeling friendly, unhurried and warmly appreciative of the brazenly moneyed surroundings.

Although it is far too expensive for something you can do yourself in two minutes at home, the shave would be an original present, or even a winning ‘self-gift’ before an interview or important meeting. The shave itself was at least as good as my Indian ones, and Debbie certainly won when it came to relaxation. The mood engendered by her deft coddling was one that, back in those long Indian days, I’d relied on the local herbs to provide.

DETAILS

Tel: 0207 259 5599

Email: info@lanesborough.com

Website: www.lanesborough.com

The Gentleman’s Wet Shave takes 30 minutes and costs £40.00.

Article printed 30th July 2005 in the Telegraph, all copyright theirs. Photos copyright Angus Watson 2005