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Reviews and Comments of 'Sarah Jappy' (3)
“You’ve got a big gap where you’ve plucked too much”, said MALIKA’s head therapist and owner Ritu Patel, assessing the state of my straggly brows with one cool glance. “And here you’ve taken too much hair from underneath the brow.” As I was under strict instructions to hold a mirror to my face, the ugly truth was staring me in the eye. Ritu was right - my eyebrows were a state! How had I not noticed?! My bad habits became even more apparent when Ritu used a piece of string to show the natural shape of the brows and to highlight the areas which needed to be allowed to re-grow and improve. She also pointed out that my eyebrows were far lighter than the shaggy fringe falling on my forehead; another truth that I had never noticed. “We will tint them for a fuller look” said Ritu, taking away the mirror and encouraging me to lie back and relax.
It’s not hard to relax at Ritu’s new threading salon, MALIKA, on the ground floor of West London’s sprawling new shopping emporium, Westfield. As a hyper self-conscious person, I thought I might feel tense having my treatment done in close proximity to the nearby shoppers. But the small salon achieves a feeling of privacy and its thin chain-metal curtain hanging before the window gives you a sense of being hidden away from public view. The mix of dark purple décor with one white wall achieves a clean, restful and sophisticated effect. Two thick leather chairs sit central stage almost like dentist chairs: this is where the magic happens.
After examining the current state of my eyebrows in what Ritu calls a ‘made-to-measure’ consultation, a cooling swab of unguents was put onto my brows to prepare them for the tint. The semi-permanent tint, a vegetable dye, was painted on and left on for around ten minutes. I lay back listening to the soothing background music (sort of ocean noises, very relaxing) before Ritu used another swab to remove the tint. She then took some small scissors and shaped the tops of my eyebrows, at the point where they both meet the bridge of the nose. With one expert twist, Ritu then began the threading process.
My best friend, a regular threadee, had warned me that threading can be uncomfortable. But as Ritu began, I relaxed back into the chair smugly thinking, “What rot!” The tug of the hairs with the string felt strangely satisfying and I could feel that lots of hairs were being uprooted with each adept movement. Ritu asked me to pull down the skin of each eye whilst holding up the skin at the side of my head, so that she could pluck under the brows. This is where my bravado crumbled a little. As Ritu threaded, my eyes began watering copiously. Different areas of the brow require different threading movements and here, Ritu used fast, scissor-sharp movements of the string to banish the hairs under the brow.
When Ritu had finished the first brow, she gave me the mirror so I could examine the results. Sadly, I was temporarily blinded by my own salty tears and stray eyelashes floating around my eyes. “That’s great!” I said weakly and lay back down so that the other brow could be similarly transformed. The good news is that the second brow didn’t hurt quite so much, or maybe I was used to it by then. Ritu told me that the first time you have a threading is the most painful, after that the hair grows back softer and can be removed with less discomfort.
After the threading was done (it took Ritu no more than ten minutes) another cooling swab was applied and this soothed the skin, causing no stinging. Ritu then massaged my head and neck briefly and this signalled the end of the treatment. When I looked in the mirror I was delighted with the results. The vegetable tint had made my brows darker, more lustrous and more noticeable (in a good way) and they were shaped and defined without looking skinny or noticeably meddled with (I hate that skinny slug look of over plucked brows!)
Threading originates from China but it was in India that it was first applied to the eyebrows and face. Ritu, who first picked up a threading string aged eleven, named her salon after her threading teacher. During the half hour I spent at the salon, MALIKA was constantly busy, with the chairs operating on a one-on, one-out type policy. There were also plenty of customers queuing to buy gift vouchers and REN beauty products, which are used by the staff for a whole host of other beauty services, such as facials and massages.
MALIKA’s staff are gentle, calming and expertly professional. The service is speedy, efficient and delivers great results. A threading service costs £15 and is well, well worth it. It’s also much better for your skin than plucking, which causes the skin to lose elasticity as a result of the pulling movement. I have promised Ritu not to pluck again and with brows looking this good, I won’t need to for a while! On average, threading lasts for around three to four weeks so I will be heading back to Westfield in the New Year to get that teary-eyed feeling all over again.
It’s not hard to relax at Ritu’s new threading salon, MALIKA, on the ground floor of West London’s sprawling new shopping emporium, Westfield. As a hyper self-conscious person, I thought I might feel tense having my treatment done in close proximity to the nearby shoppers. But the small salon achieves a feeling of privacy and its thin chain-metal curtain hanging before the window gives you a sense of being hidden away from public view. The mix of dark purple décor with one white wall achieves a clean, restful and sophisticated effect. Two thick leather chairs sit central stage almost like dentist chairs: this is where the magic happens.
After examining the current state of my eyebrows in what Ritu calls a ‘made-to-measure’ consultation, a cooling swab of unguents was put onto my brows to prepare them for the tint. The semi-permanent tint, a vegetable dye, was painted on and left on for around ten minutes. I lay back listening to the soothing background music (sort of ocean noises, very relaxing) before Ritu used another swab to remove the tint. She then took some small scissors and shaped the tops of my eyebrows, at the point where they both meet the bridge of the nose. With one expert twist, Ritu then began the threading process.
My best friend, a regular threadee, had warned me that threading can be uncomfortable. But as Ritu began, I relaxed back into the chair smugly thinking, “What rot!” The tug of the hairs with the string felt strangely satisfying and I could feel that lots of hairs were being uprooted with each adept movement. Ritu asked me to pull down the skin of each eye whilst holding up the skin at the side of my head, so that she could pluck under the brows. This is where my bravado crumbled a little. As Ritu threaded, my eyes began watering copiously. Different areas of the brow require different threading movements and here, Ritu used fast, scissor-sharp movements of the string to banish the hairs under the brow.
When Ritu had finished the first brow, she gave me the mirror so I could examine the results. Sadly, I was temporarily blinded by my own salty tears and stray eyelashes floating around my eyes. “That’s great!” I said weakly and lay back down so that the other brow could be similarly transformed. The good news is that the second brow didn’t hurt quite so much, or maybe I was used to it by then. Ritu told me that the first time you have a threading is the most painful, after that the hair grows back softer and can be removed with less discomfort.
After the threading was done (it took Ritu no more than ten minutes) another cooling swab was applied and this soothed the skin, causing no stinging. Ritu then massaged my head and neck briefly and this signalled the end of the treatment. When I looked in the mirror I was delighted with the results. The vegetable tint had made my brows darker, more lustrous and more noticeable (in a good way) and they were shaped and defined without looking skinny or noticeably meddled with (I hate that skinny slug look of over plucked brows!)
Threading originates from China but it was in India that it was first applied to the eyebrows and face. Ritu, who first picked up a threading string aged eleven, named her salon after her threading teacher. During the half hour I spent at the salon, MALIKA was constantly busy, with the chairs operating on a one-on, one-out type policy. There were also plenty of customers queuing to buy gift vouchers and REN beauty products, which are used by the staff for a whole host of other beauty services, such as facials and massages.
MALIKA’s staff are gentle, calming and expertly professional. The service is speedy, efficient and delivers great results. A threading service costs £15 and is well, well worth it. It’s also much better for your skin than plucking, which causes the skin to lose elasticity as a result of the pulling movement. I have promised Ritu not to pluck again and with brows looking this good, I won’t need to for a while! On average, threading lasts for around three to four weeks so I will be heading back to Westfield in the New Year to get that teary-eyed feeling all over again.
This cinema is a real gem. Not only does it showcase a brilliant selection of independent, foreign, edgy and intelligent film making, it also has a fantastic cafe with enormous pink meringues and a delicious array of other saliva-inducing treats. Which is of course vital in a cinema! The cafe is a great place to go for a post-film dissection chat, although its nice enough to warrant a trip regardless of what's showing. There is also a bar downstairs with comfy seats, often populated by intelligent-looking types with facial hair and berets. The cavernous downstairs toilets are also worthy of a mention (though I can only vouch for the women's) with its cool collection of film posters on the walls. So, all in all: good meringues, good toilets, can you ask for anything more? Oh, did I mention that the films are worth seeing too...
Monogamy has its place in marriage and religion but it is never wise to be monogamous where food is concerned. As far as I am aware, there is nothing morally or legally binding about a menu. Therefore, it is best to throw the maxim “less is more” to the wind when selecting what to put inside your stomach.
Nowhere is this more apt than when choosing dim sum at the New World restaurant. Even the most temperate of diners will commit indecent acts of culinary promiscuity when faced with their orgasmic parcels of deliciousness.
On entering the dim-sum room, you may fear that you have stumbled into a Chinese-themed bingo hall. Amidst the expanse of red and gold, the white tables gleam like fish. There is even a stage at the back of the room, possibly intended for some sort of dim-sum fuelled Chinese karaoke.
Waitresses ping from table to table, deftly wielding silver trolleys laden with goodies, so it is wise to sit down as soon as possible to avoid death by trolley. Choose from a selection of these silver beneficiaries, as dishes vary from trolley to trolley.
Despite its gloriously unchic décor, this restaurant quickly renders normal eating habits mundane. Why have three courses of recognisable food brought to you on a plate, when you can play culinary lottery and select from around thirty choices, which will arrive in a mysterious bento box and reveal their identity only upon consumption?
We lingered over thick cuts of aubergine nestling in black bean sauce, its meaty flesh yielding surprise nuggets of prawn and pork. Fried prawn balls had a juicy, tender centre, surrounded by crispy tendrils of won ton pastry. The light and fluffy steamed barbeque pork buns were like edible clouds, encasing tangy shards of meat in a flavoursome sauce. Grilled pork dumplings were toothsome and fragrant and the prawn dumplings boasted obese specimens, satisfyingly resistant to the bite. Sticky rice wrapped in lotus leaf released a seductive cloud of fragrant steam when unfurled and revealed slivers of chicken and prawn. My companion’s soft shell crab in garlic and chilli was succulent and coconuty, served on fried rice noodles with a beautiful purple flower.
Our gluttonous excess was accompanied by bottomless pots of golden jasmine tea and unobtrusive service, proving that here, as in most things, “More is most definitely more!”
Price: £9 per person, 1 Gerrard Place, London, W1D 5PA.
Tel: 0207 734 0677
Nowhere is this more apt than when choosing dim sum at the New World restaurant. Even the most temperate of diners will commit indecent acts of culinary promiscuity when faced with their orgasmic parcels of deliciousness.
On entering the dim-sum room, you may fear that you have stumbled into a Chinese-themed bingo hall. Amidst the expanse of red and gold, the white tables gleam like fish. There is even a stage at the back of the room, possibly intended for some sort of dim-sum fuelled Chinese karaoke.
Waitresses ping from table to table, deftly wielding silver trolleys laden with goodies, so it is wise to sit down as soon as possible to avoid death by trolley. Choose from a selection of these silver beneficiaries, as dishes vary from trolley to trolley.
Despite its gloriously unchic décor, this restaurant quickly renders normal eating habits mundane. Why have three courses of recognisable food brought to you on a plate, when you can play culinary lottery and select from around thirty choices, which will arrive in a mysterious bento box and reveal their identity only upon consumption?
We lingered over thick cuts of aubergine nestling in black bean sauce, its meaty flesh yielding surprise nuggets of prawn and pork. Fried prawn balls had a juicy, tender centre, surrounded by crispy tendrils of won ton pastry. The light and fluffy steamed barbeque pork buns were like edible clouds, encasing tangy shards of meat in a flavoursome sauce. Grilled pork dumplings were toothsome and fragrant and the prawn dumplings boasted obese specimens, satisfyingly resistant to the bite. Sticky rice wrapped in lotus leaf released a seductive cloud of fragrant steam when unfurled and revealed slivers of chicken and prawn. My companion’s soft shell crab in garlic and chilli was succulent and coconuty, served on fried rice noodles with a beautiful purple flower.
Our gluttonous excess was accompanied by bottomless pots of golden jasmine tea and unobtrusive service, proving that here, as in most things, “More is most definitely more!”
Price: £9 per person, 1 Gerrard Place, London, W1D 5PA.
Tel: 0207 734 0677
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