Deidre Dare

Going to the beauty salon in Moscow is a very different experience from going to one back home. When I was newly arrived in Moscow my friend Heather warned me about that, but I didn't quite believe her. As it turns out, Heather was right.

Let's start with the most basic procedure of them all: the simple manicure.

A woman can walk down Lexington Avenue in New York City during her lunch hour and spontaneously pop in for a manicure at any of the ubiquitous Korean-run nail salons. The whole service (unless it includes extensions) will cost around $10 and take about 15 minutes of her time.

As far as I or any of my expat girlfriends can tell, such spontaneity in hand grooming is simply not possible here. Like one's retirement, when it comes to nail care in Moscow, a girl's gotta plan ahead. But it's still only $10. The only difference is: it's $10 per nail. At those prices, one's retirement savings will start to be affected no matter how much foresight a gal has.

The solution I've found to this dilemma of the $100 dollar hand-job that has to be logistically pre-planned like a well-run military operation is to do my own nails. I'm no good at staying in the lines, but if I stick to clear polish I can make my hands look passably neat on my own.

Unfortunately, I am unable to take the same measures for my feet. I just don't bend that way. And, by the way, "not bending that way" is also the reason I can't do yoga. I can bend in lots of bed-friendly ways, but not "that way".

So, armed with plenty of roobs ("What's that?" a friend asked me the other day. "Roobs?" I said. "Roubles, of course!"), I went to get a pedicure at my salon last week.

There is something mysterious about getting a pedicure in Moscow that, no matter how much I've tried to figure it out, I still can't understand. And it's this: this particular beauty service is a two-hour ordeal. It's such a marathon that the first thing the beautician does is to supply you with a large glass of water so you won't dehydrate on the chair. Until I arrived here, I don't think I'd ever spent more than 30 minutes getting a pedicure.

I think the enormous length of time it takes to get a pedicure in Moscow will always remain one of those unfathomable things about Russia. Similar to: why do Russian chicks still wear nylon pantyhose when the rest of us stopped doing it 10 years ago? Or, why would anyone take a sauna and then jump naked into the snow in -20 degrees Celsius temperatures? Oh, these puzzling, puzzling Russians!

But there is no beauty service more difficult for me to be satisfied with here than the dreaded monthly bikini wax.

I'll put it as plainly as possible. Russian waxers are Brazilian-mad. If you're not very, very careful, they will rip away every hair you have down there. Slowly.

The thing about the Brazilian look that all Russian and Western girls should realise (and what I am about to say goes for the "landing strip" look as well) is that it makes your hips look wider and should therefore be avoided at almost all cost.

I've endured the agony of going it bare for the occasional anniversary celebration, lover's birthday or sex-club attendance, but generally I prefer my hips to appear narrow. Therefore, my preference is for a "g-string" wax which means, basically, thighs and ...well, you can figure it out.

So far I've been unable to obtain this look in Moscow. No matter what type of panties I've carefully selected for my monthly waxing date with Ms. Galina, she pushes them roughly aside and tears almost all of it out. Slowly.

The cost of Ms. Galina's bikini wax is pretty much what you'd expect. No real surprises there.

After reviewing the last bill I received and calculating the exchange rate, I figure it must cost about $10.

$10, that is, per hair.

xxoo

DD

Deidre Dare's novel "Expat" and "Moscow Moments" video reports are at: www.deidredare.com