When I was working in the spa and talked to clients post-facial about home care, a number would inevitably say “you’re just trying to sell me something.”

Unfortunately, the “upsell” in the salon and spa setting has pretty much eclipsed the fact that I really, honestly don’t believe that Oil of Olay is good for your skin.

Of course, there will always be technicians trying to make an extra buck and pushing useless product on unsuspecting clients. So I get why people are wary.

But if you are on my facial table getting a treatment from me, I am going to suggest alternatives. And sometimes those alternatives are at the drug store, sometimes they are on my shelves.

In fact, the company that supplies my peels, PCA Skin, recommends that, for best results, their products are used pre-and-post peel. “Is that really necessary,” you groan, firing up your mental calculator to add up product costs.

Over the past five months, I conducted an experiment to see if using their product really was necessary. Over the course of three peels, I alternated between using their products prior to the peel and using non-PCA products prior.

Peel One
I used PCA’s products for 10 days prior to the peel. By the 2nd day post-peel, I was peeling. A lot. The peeling lasted almost two weeks. My the time it was done, my skin looked spectacular. I was impressed.

Peel Two
I did not use PCA’s products prior to applying the peel and just went for it. By the 2nd day, I could barely make out flaking. By the third, there was minimal peeling. It was all over in five days. And then I broke out. Interesting…

Peel Three
Once again, PCA products were used 10 days prior to the peel. Day two saw very light peeling, and by day three, my skin began to shed. And while it didn’t go for a full two weeks like the first peel, it did peel for about 10 days.

On the day the peeling started to wane, Manly Man Husband asked me if I was wearing makeup, because my skin looked particularly radiant (or maybe he was just kissing my ass).

The Verdict
In the case of PCA and their peels, using their home care products prior to peeling made a significant difference in the peel result. The mix of active ingredients does prep the skin significantly so that the skin achieves fantastic results, without over-doing it.

I should also note that I used their recommended post-peel products each and every time. You should always follow the home care product advice you receive after a peel treatment; that’s imperative.

The home care product kits (pre and post) are automatically given out to my clients who book a PCA peel.  I don’t want clients worried that I am only trying to upsell them product. To ensure the best result, compliance is key.

I left you, dear readers, with a cliff-hanger at the end of
the first installment of Human Lab Rat, which detailed my failed attempt to
color my hair sans chemicals. 

With my hair the color of an oxidized penny, I pulled a hat
down to my ears and ran to the only place I knew could help—Frederic
Fekkai.  I stumbled through Henry
Bendels with my hippy-dippy hat covering half of my face, shoving past the
perfume Nazis to get to the back of the cosmetic section where I saw the
displays of Fekkai’s lux products. 
As I starred at all the bottles, a sweet voice behind me sing-songed “may
I help you?” 

I turned to her, wild eyed, and whispered, “I henna-ed my
hair.” 

Her eyes opened as wide as mine. “WHY would you do a thing like
that,” she was almost as mortified as me. 

“It’s breaking. My hair is brittle and breaking like straw,”
I was half way between laughing and crying, as I pulled my hat off so she could
survey the damage.

She took the bottle of clarifying shampoo out of my hands.

“You don’t need this, yet,” she said. “Don't worry about fixing the color. Right now, you need
to strengthen.”

She handed me two bottles of Fekkai’s Protein Rx Shampoo and
Conditioner, advising me to also get some of the Protein Rx Hair Mask and use
that once or twice a week to help with the breakage.

While I would have loved to get the bad-penny color out
with a good clarifying shampoo, my hair was already so fragile that I needed to
inject it with some serious vitamins before I could attempt to fix the color.

Fekkai's Protein Rx products were nothing short of a miracle. They contain
soy and milk protein, which reinforces and strengthens weak and damaged hair.  Within a week, my hair was much
stronger and no longer breaking off. 
After a month, the only tell-tale sign of my henna disaster was a lingering
greenish undertone, which was fixed with a professional color job (I will save
that five hour ordeal for an epilogue).

Now that my hair is Fekkai-ed back to health, the protein products are
side-lined in the shower.  Too much
protein can make healthy hair stiff. But I have my weapon in reserve should I
get the itch to experiment again.

Human Lab Rat is a new semi-regular feature where I
experiment with more extreme (i.e. not easily reversible) or unusual beauty
treatments and technology.

My pilates instructor, Nancy, has a head-turning mane of hair.
It is long, thick and luminous. The color is a striking and vibrant shade of
red, streaked with coppery highlights. It is the kind of color that is either
enviously natural, or the mark of a sensational colorist (the one that uses the
smallest brush to apply highlights with startling precision and unbelievable
patience).

I was having a bad-hair year.  My at-home hair coloring for the past two years left my
color less than dazzling—ranging from too brassy to too muddy.  I have been short of time and cash to
get my listless hair in the hands of a pro. I also wonder what all the chemical
processing has done to my hair, not to mention my entire body.

When I found out Nancy colored her hair—herself—with henna,
it was like hair manna from heaven. I could get gorgeous color from a product
that was not loaded with questionable chemicals. I ran to Whole Foods and
picked up a package of red henna that said it would turn my shade of blond into
a copper.  My dull hair was about
to get a seriously healthy makeover!

I raced home and ripped open the package, ready to get my
henna on. Then I read the instructions…. 
Since I bought the henna powder, I needed to mix it myself with water.
Distilled water, boiled in a non-metal container. And I needed a shower cap to
wrap my hair once the henna was applied. I needed a kitchen scale, to weigh the
powder out in ounces.  A tiny voice
of doubt starting ringing in my ears, as I hoofed it over to the drugstore in
search of distilled water.  I
called my husband.

“So, this henna stuff,” I choked out. “I have to get
distilled water. It needs to boil in a non-metal pot. I think I may be over my
head. This is a lot different than pouring the developer into the color and
shaking well.”

“You’ll be fine. How hard can it be?” he offered helpfully.
“We have an electronic kitchen scale under the sink.”

Of course, the next time he wants to buy something
ridiculous (like a kitchen scale we have not used in the three years since we bought it) and I say to him “when are we ever going to use XYZ,” he will
remind me of this very moment.

“I am kind of scared of the henna,” I shared with him.

“And you AREN’T scared of all the chemical crap you use!” He
was clearly done being my henna coach. 
But point taken—I got the goods and went home to mix up my concoction.

I measured and boiled and mixed and cooled. I pretended I was
a cosmetic chemist coming up with a marvelous new hair color “Devilish Red.” I
was getting excited again.

Even the gruelingly bizarre application process did not
deter my newfound excitement. Henna is not a smooth application process.  It’s goopy and sandy and impossible to
get out of a squirt container. You basically have to slop it on your hair with
your hands until everything is saturated. It sounds easier than it is.

Once applied, I put on the shower cap, wrapped that in a
towel, and settled down in front of the TV for a two-hour wait.  But I guess creating the new hottest
hair color is pretty exhausting and I fell asleep. For the entire night.

I woke up the next morning at 6 AM.  I wasn’t terribly concerned since I had
read that henna could be left on over night—the longer it sits, I read, the
deeper the color.

It took several washes to get the grit out of my hair.  When I finally blew it dry, my color
was…  Well… I was hoping for a
deep rich red with copper highlights. 
This was more like a lightly rusted penny—the red was more on the green
side. 

While the color was bad, the texture was worse.  I can fix a rusty penny, but not while
my hair was bone dry and brittle. 
It was so fragile that it broke off by simply brushing my fingers
through it.

Bottom line, henna appears to be much friendlier to thick, coarse hair.  If, like me, your hair is baby-fine, proceed with caution.  From what I have been told since my
misguided mission, putting henna over a prior chemical processes could have
contributed to all the damage. A patch test with henna is a must—you need to
know how your hair will react before slathering the grit all over your
head. 

Part two will explore how I finally escaped my henna hell
and brought my hair back to health.