This isn't a post for anyone with a baroque foot care ritual. If though, like myself, you regularly forget that you even have them...willkommen. I don't obsess over feet, but when sandal season comes along I typically make some last-ditch effort at presentability. If this were most beauty stories, I'd now go on to detail some 16-step exfoliation and rehydration process culminating in a two-hour paraffin bath and immortelle flower oil soak. But this is a me kind of beauty story, so what I actually do is make a doctor's appointment, show up, then sit around while receiving one of modern science's best inventions—the 'podiatric peel'.
Have you ever had a chemical peel? Well, this is just like that, but with someone who spends the rest of their day treating bunions. I'm sure that foot peels so powerful they require a physician's oversight were designed to treat some actual medical problem, but damned if I haven't been blithely misusing 'em for years. I'm not the first person to employ foot peels for purely aesthetic reasons, of course—there's nothing some beauty-hungry, probably drunk lady or gent hasn't had the bright idea to off-label experiment with in the pursuit of looking younger or softer or maybe just less sunburned. But do I have a platform and exceptionally patient friends willing to let me make bad decisions? Indeed I do!
Plus, this isn't exactly a complicated procedure. If you've ever seen the legendary (and legendarily gross) Baby Foot Peel, you'll be familiar with the concept behind all chemical sole exfoliation: apply acid to foot, foot peels off, nice foot ensues. With an at-home foot acid treatment, you put baggies full of AHAs on for an hour, and then the skin sloughs off on its own over about a month.
Going to a doctor is much, much faster. The peel itself only takes a few minutes, and instead of hiding like The Phantom of The Baby Foot Opera for weeks until your feet flake off entirely, you reap immediate benefits from the terrifyingly powerful acids medical professionals keep lying around their offices. It's a fun, sexy time (Author's Note: As I write these things and later re-read them, I become increasingly convinced I'm probably going to wind up like one of the characters on Absolutely Fabulous. Not because I'll be some femme d'une certaine age who owns a chalet, but because I'm an increasingly ridiculous caricature of a human being).
I don't know if doing this makes me seem completely off my rocker, but I can tell you that it definitely is efficient, easy, and makes me feel significantly less terrible going into the salon for a pedicure (I would not want the nice ladies there subjected to my feet after like half a year of outright neglect). Oh! And it's also not expensive. I paid like $60 last time I went, and it was worth every penny. Questions? Comments? Concerns? Please chat/berate away.
Edie Campbell photographed by Venetia Scott for Self Service Magazine.