End of an Erika Era

For the past 8 years my dear friend Erika has, on average, twice a month kept me "kempt". She is not only the best beutician in town, she is the beauty professional that I entrust with the "cart blanche" approach. Whilst I lie back and try to grab some sleep, she, waxes, tweases, dyes and tidies me someone more glamourous. Tomorrow will be my last visit to her as a beautician, as she is hanging up her everso sharp tweasers and going on maternity leave and also moving to a different part of the UK. I will greatly miss the hours spent on her therapy table being preened, putting the world to rights and having a good old girly gossip.

I know the routine before even setting foot through the door tomorrow. She will tell me off for not moisturising, ask me what I need doing ( but then tell me affectionately what she has planned). I will lie on the table, and whilst my eyes are glued semi shut with an eyelash tint, she will ernestly wax and tidy up my legs, bikini line, eyebrows etc). For the first couple of times i was being "attacked" in this sensory deprived state, I was in near hysterics, but I am now used to it, especially when she got the tweasers out to remove any straggling hairs that had the misfortune to remain.

I will miss the new age whale music she has in the background, most of which was surpressed by our giggling and gossiping, also the aroma of all her lotions and potions.

I am now faced with finding a new beautician, knowing that things wont ever be the same.