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Go ahead, guys, make your day Spoil yourself with a facial, pedicure, or a swedish massage. It's OK. Really. By Paul Massari, Globe Correspondent, 11/08/2001 Are men the new women? The question's premise is sexist, of course. Within our stereotypical notions of masculinity and femininity, women are supposed to embrace vanity while men eschew it. Women powder. Men sweat. Women puff. Men buff. Women pamper. Men pump up. Unless of course you're a gay man. Then you're somehow expected to find time to do both. If ever there was truth to these gender divisions, there no longer is. Yes, most of Boston's spas and salons still have plenty of female customers. And yes, the gay community is well represented there too. But regardless of gender identification or sexuality, all kinds of men are flocking to personal care providers. We treat our kissers to fabulous facials. We have extravagant Europeans fuss over our hair and pay them $40 to $80 for the privilege. We flip through the latest issue of Men's Health for tips on how to develop washboard abs while a pedicurist fawns over our tootsies. And, although we may be more used to a hip check, cross body block, or a tackle, we're succumbing to the gentle touch of the massage therapist. Come along as we visit spots where the air is scented with jasmine and myrrh and the men are well-exfoliated. And don't be surprised if you bump into your terry-clothed buddy Butch coming out of the aroma-therapy chamber next door.
Face it Owner Scott St. Cyr says what distinguishes a massage at the South End's Etant Day Spa is that the therapists touch your face, not just your back and shoulders. Without warning, he plants two warm, meaty hands on my cheeks. I'm startled, even a bit uneasy. But then I feel the muscles in my shoulders and upper back release. It's like my whole body's exhaled. "Most men don't really have their faces touched," St. Cyr acknowledges. "Unless someone draws attention to a problem, you may not even know it's there. Once they do, men realize that their faces aren't getting the attention they need." Etant offers its patrons many different styles of massage. Just want to unwind and relax? Try the Swedish massage. Need to work out the kinks? Deep-tissue massage will wring the knots from your muscles. Struggling with a sports-related injury? Your massage will be tailored to your injury and get you back in the game. "Most men come in with issues with their legs," St. Cyr explains. "Hamstrings are a big deal. The upper back and neck are also big. It's the briefcases and laptops that they carry. And it's not just a male issue anymore. Women have it too." Men not only get massages at Etant, but also give them. "I heard over and over that it's difficult for a man to be a massage therapist," says St. Cyr. "Because men are nervous coming to men and women are nervous coming to men. None of us bought into that when we were going through massage school." St. Cyr wants his spa to be homey and welcoming, where both men and women feel at ease (his clientele is 60-40 men). "We've never really had to gear our business to men," he explains. "We don't have a lot of attitude or glitz . . . I purposely didn't do white walls, bright lights and mirrors. Men just come here and feel relaxed." Etant must have the right touch as it's looking to move to bigger digs. But St. Cyr promises to retain the same storefront coziness.
Sweat it out I opened the heavy glass door to the steam bath and saw only misty images of two men, hunched over. The room was long and tiled with a lower and higher level of benches on which I could choose to swelter. The hot, wet air wrapped around my pasty skin. I was surprised how pleasant it felt. Summer was only a month past and the weather had been mild, yet a nip had already begun to settle in my bones. My skin embraced the cloud of heat. Over the next five minutes, a steady procession of men filed into the bath, which got cooler as the hot air rushed out of the open door. As a working stiff on a guest pass at the Ritz, I found nudity a great equalizer. The folks sitting around me may have been captains of industry or mavens of finance, but here we were just a bunch of guys with potbellies and receding hair lines. And we were sweating like hogs. Before long the temperature gauge clicked on and the rooms began to fill again with a hot billowing cloud. It hurt to breathe too quickly. "Now I know what mustard gas is like," I thought. I draped a towel over my head for protection. Next to me a fleshy man in a gold necklace put his hand to his head and exhaled with some effort. "You gonna be OK, buddy?" I asked. My friend nodded and mumbled something back at me in an accent that sounded . . . French? German? "Damn," I said to him as I rubbed my head with the towel. "I haven't done this in months. Every time I do, I ask myself `Why?' What about you? Do you just enjoy the heat or what?" He looked at me as cheerfully as a man can when he's in a room full of scalding air. "Toxins," he said. The steam "brings all the [body's] toxins to the surface. Toxins from stress and pollution . . . and drinking!" I was surprised. This seemed like the kind of language I'd expect to hear from a high falutin' beautician. "It's also good for your skin," he went on. "Flushes out the pores. More toxins!" He laughed as he said this. The other sweltering men chuckled too. "I only wish I had a pool of cold water to jump in like we do in Switzerland," he said. "Here, they've just got a couple of drinking fountains outside the door. You need a pool . . . or snow to roll in." From under my towel I looked at my pink skin, wet with perspiration. It was so hot I felt like my heart was about to burst. All this talk of snow and cold pools was more than I could stand. I got out and headed for a cold shower. Before I got there, though, I saw my face in a mirror. My cheeks looked rosy and healthy, as though I'd been in the sun all day. I ran my fingers over my skin. It felt soft, almost milky. Hmmm . . . maybe my sweaty Swiss friend knew what he was talking about.
Hair scents Talk to salon owner Roberto Udan about men and hair, and the conversation inevitably turns to aromas. Udan says that many of his mail clients have used the same shampoo for years, "but they can't tell me the name. They tell me, `Oh! It smells like eucalyptus!' " Udan, who is also principal hair stylist, first noticed guys' sense for scents when he was a stylist on Newbury Street in the 1980s. In 1987, when the salon was sold, Udan took his observations with him and opened his own shop on Tremont Street. The South End was not the bustling upscale section of town that it is today. "The neighborhood was still pretty sparse," he remembers. "There was a liquor store, a pastry shop, a bar. No restaurants other than Icarus and a pizza shop. Everything else was boarded up. We were afraid that our clients wouldn't follow us." They did - particularly gay men, many of whom lived in the South End. Today, Udan estimates that nearly 80 percent of his clientel is male, and includes many of the straight professionals who moved into the neighborhood in the 1990s. He says that guys flock to Santa Fe for the smells. The aromas in the products augment the whole experience of getting a haircut. "We're different because we use shampoos with organic botanicals: Peppermint oil. Eucalyptus oil. Lavender. Calendula." Udan attributes his salon's popularity also to its informal decor: walls painted in "Southwestern skin tones" with lots of wood fixtures and furniture to promote warmth. "It feels like someone's living room," he says. This is key for guys, who, Udan contends, are actually more self-conscious about their hair than many women. "They see it as a masculine thing," Udan explains. "We try and make them feel a little more comfortable with what they have." He also mentions the fact that the salon has only four chairs and no assistants, which means that the clients are treated by one stylist for shampoo, cut, and any other services. "Men really appreciate that," says Udan. "Guys are more comfortable with fewer contacts." Udan offers to demonstrate. "Can I clean that up for you?" he asks. I was taken completely by surprise. I'm bald and haven't been to a barber in five years. I have my own set of clippers and simply buzz the peach fuzz on each side of my noggin every two weeks. "You think I need it?" I said, rubbing my pate self-consciously. "Sure. Come on. It'll only take a sec." Before I knew it, Roberto was wielding a small set of clippers and chit-chatting away. Hey, I figured. Some guys have bartenders. Some have hair stylists. At least I won't be hung over in the morning. After the clip job, Roberto led me over to the shampoo sink. I'd forgotten how delicious it was to feel warm water on my head, or to have my scalp massaged. He applied the peppermint oil and bathed my cranium in refreshing coolness. Along with the scalp massage, the water, and the aroma, I experienced a bit of a sensory epiphany. Now I understood why even Udan's balding clients keep coming.
Pore excuse "Skin is skin," says Kosmetika co-owner and Polish emigre Maja Mitukiewicz. "I don't think you have to treat men differently." The Newbury Street day spa may not have a "men's facial," but it does have a lot of loyal male clients. "We have quite a few guys who come for regular facials," Mitukiewicz says as we talk in her office. "They're very good about using the products. They feel a little intimidated at first, but once they come in and see the privacy" - each client gets a separate room - "the intimidation disappears." Mitukiewicz and her partners, Ildiko Lath (a Hungarian) and Elizabeth Janik (also Polish), are all European-trained estheticians. The difference from many American beauticians, they say, is length of training (two years vs. six months) and approach. In Europe, skin care is more of a health matter, Mitukiewicz explains. "We always analyze the skin. We treat acne and do the deep pore cleansing." "Deep pore cleansing?" I asked. "What does that involve?" She balked and got clinical. "It's an extraction of grease and whatever's clogging the pores." Um . . . how? Tiny vacuum cleaners? "Manual extraction," said Lath. "Sometimes it could be a little unpleasant. But if we manage to educate people, they understand that a little discomfort now will be good for them in the long run." Kosmetika's clinical expertise is especially useful to the many men who come in with problems related to shaving: skin irritation and razor burn. Shaving can also cultivate ingrown hairs, which infect pores and turn into. . . well. . . zits. "Plus it hurts!" exclaims Mitukiewicz.
Play footsie According to Dean Boudreau, owner of Newbury Street's Beaucage salon, men are a little ticklish about their feet. "They come into the salon for a haircut," he says. "They see this . . . stuff going on. They're curious and an employee recommends a pedicure. They're squeamish at first. They think it's not masculine." Boudreau says, however, that more and more guys are getting over their fear of footcare. Although they may be intimidated initially, the thought of one of Beaucage's attractive attendants petting their tired dogs becomes too much to resist and they make an appointment. A Beaucage pedicure is a luxurious four-step process that Boudreau calls "a small moment of escape with a little personal maintenance going on." First, a pedicurist dunks your feet in a sort of mini-jacuzzi, prepared with essential oils, to soften the cuticles and any calluses. While you're soaking in a private space decorated in earth tones, they ply you with trashy magazines, cookies, tea or coffee. After the soaking, the attendant neatly shapes your nails. Next comes the salt scrub, a treatment designed to exfoliate any dead and dry skin. The final step is the most delicious - a lengthy massage with cream to hydrate the skin on your feet. Boudreau says most men expected that the pedicurist is just "going to shape the toenails. They do, but they're also working on calluses. Then there's the oil and the massage and the hot baths. If you're active and athletic, this addresses a lot of the wear and tear on your feet." The experience turns out to be a delightful surprise. And many of the men become loyal customers. Richard Cobb, for instance, is a regular visitor to Beaucage. The 33-year-old graphic designer (young-looking, he says, because of all his pedicures) spends a lot of time in the gym and explains that pedicures help. "I work out about six days a week for three hours a day," he says. "It's what beats my feet up the most. Your feet dry out and your heels feel like sandpaper. It was nice to get in bed and not have your feet stick to the sheets!" He also takes advantage of Beaucage's manicure services every couple of weeks. "I'm an artist and my hands get grungy from illustration. It gets a little embarrassing to point at something [during a presentation to clients] with paint-covered hands. Your hands look much cleaner. You feel more comfortable." The treatments "are pretty addictive," he says. |