OMFG, Gossip Girl’s tonight! Not to be one of those squealing saddos who got all geared up (“No, I’m Carrie. You’re so Charlotte!”) in a cosmo-quaffing quartet for the SATC movie but my esteemed colleague Alyson Mance (hellobeautiful.com) and I were stoked on tonight’s GG so we got our hair did at the super fancy Phyto Universe, the same beauty mecca patronized by Blair Waldorf, Jenny Humphrey, Lily van der Woodsen and Vanessa Abrams. We are just that fancy. (But wait, I seriously am SO Carrie. -AM)
Located in midtown Manhattan’s, at 715 Lexington Avenue and 58th street, Phyto has a lush 3,000 square foot vertical garden made up of 9,000 living tropical plants (way less impressive were they dead and/or plastic) and somehow they’ve figured out the exact lighting strategy/shades of wood/olfactory notes to strike to make you feel relaxed from the moment you disembark from the expensively swift and silent elevator (despite us having arrived LATE for our appointments. Tra la la.). So relaxed are you that you happily sip your water, unsuspecting of what awaits you after they hook your head up to the microscopic scalp analysis thingie for your Ultimate Express treatment (60 minutes; $120). Oh, and the reason why we tag teamed is because we needed to do a comparative analysis. As this hair:
Is ever so slightly different, for example, from this hair:
Mary: Ok, side bar: I have really good hair—Asian hair. I take it for granted and I never get it cut. I blast it with a caliber of dryer that could sandblast jeans and use the shampoo and hair conditioner that I find at my crappy gym when I wash it every single day. I vaguely suspect that none of this is a good idea.
That said, I had NO idea how disturbing I’d find the inevitable carnage of the angry potholes of my scalp when magnified a bajillion times over.
Valdez-ee On the Conditioner!
Antonio informs me that I have an oily (oilyoily) scalp (which I sorta knew), with tons of hair (many, many strands, which I definitely knew) but that the shaft of each hair is rather thin (this was news). This combined with a horrible triangle haircut leaves me prone to frizzing. And while I won’t get a slew of products for a new hair regimen I know what products to avoid, what to go for, and to stop washing my hair every day. Most of you know this; some of you may not.
Alyson: As a black girl with relaxed hair, I’ve had my fair share of hair trauma. Burnt scalp, thinning strands, split ends, etc. But there was nothing more traumatizing than having my scalp magnified 200x in front of a total stranger. I wasn’t prepared for this. I tried to make excuses, though I wasn’t sure what, exactly, I was excusing. But according to Ron, my stylist, I have a great, healthy scalp with minimal buildup. God knows what they see on a regular basis, then.
Simulation.
Alyson: Apparently my real hour of atonement came when he scanned my strands, which were broken off in the most depressing way. Split ends for days. And some angry buildup caused by putting 322 types of product in my hair before (wait for it) blow drying, then flat ironing it once a week. F my life. Ron says I can wash my hair more often, but I really don’t have time for that. Besides, the only reason I stopped hitting my local Dominican salon once a week was because I couldn’t multitask and do my hair at the same time, which is pathetic. Oh, and the recession isn’t helping much, either.
Mary: The rest of the treatment involved ambrosia-scented awesomeness like Phytodéfrisant relaxing balm and Phytopanama with Progenium and the veritably talented Antonio cajoling and setting a coif confection so beautiful and effortless-looking that you know no matter the man hours, you’ll never be able to replicate it.
Alyson: Ron brushed my hair before washing with Phytospecific Intense Nutrition shampoo (apparently, this stimulates the scalp and lifts some of the product buildup, so it’s easier to wash away), then steamed my hair with a conditioning cocktail of Phytokarité, jojoba mask, and Phytospecific revitalizing oil. In the end, Antonio gave me a blow job so fine (“Ron! What did you use? Her hair feels like butter,” he said. Buttery hair sounds gross, but it is actually quite magnificent), we could have totally passed for two happy Asian girls leaving a hair salon. From the back, at least. (In certain ancient dialects, it’s called love you long time hair. Though only I’m allowed to say that.—MhkC).
Mary: Going to Phyto and staring at the surface of your head is as commensurately satisfying as when you rummage around your face with a Tweezerman and a halogen lit x10 mirror. You learn things. Like how some things only turn INTO pimples when you stab them enough times. What I learned from Phyto is better. It’s like how you’re supposed to get properly fitted for a bra by an underwear professional (my BFF went from a 36 B to a 34 D, true story), it’s good to invest on the methodology of how to avoid bad hair days vs. dropping a bunch of money on products which, of course also works and you can do here.
Alyson: I mean, I’m a writer. While Phyto conditioning cocktails sound great in theory, summer’s approaching, and I tend to go curly once the warm weather hits. Which means I’ll be washing my hair way more than once a week. Which means I’d potentially be spending my unborn first born on phyto cocktail ingredients, which frankly isn’t going to happen. But I’m willing to drop in for an express treatment every other month or so to satisfy my undying craving for self-pampering. So thanks, Ron. For what, you ask? For making me one of those users that’s too good for cheap stuff but will buy a fine, expensive stash of high-grade goodness every so often for that warm, fuzzy feeling. Under this analogy, I will henceforth justify my future salon visits to friends as not being “a phytohead, but I’ll visit from time to time. And when I do, I go hard.”
Mary: What she said. Oh, and they have waxing, facials, cellulite treatments and a glut of other wonderful things to get good and properly 360 addicted to. Check ‘em out.
Now a gallery.
