Beauty editor JEAN GODFREY-JUNE finds the ultimate impartial skincare judge: the TSA man.
Palm Beach, home of the miracle-working Tammy Fender & her super-slimming, impossibly elegant snack.
I think gorgeous people look in the mirror and are as astounded as we are when we look at them. “How did this happen?” they marvel. The Gwyneths of this world can’t account for their own gorgeousness, so they blame it on things like, say, creams from Tammy Fender.
Gwyneth reportedly swears by said creams; I went for a facial with the creams. The charming Palm Beach house-turned-salon is carefully painted in shades of white, with white curtains everywhere. Everything is all-natural, organic, holistic. There are teas and waters and delicious snacks.* The facial itself is heaven: Fender and an incredible reflexologist work in tandem; I have never felt better.
But I had to run to catch the flight back to New York. Unbrushed, barefaced, I raced to the airport, hoping not to see anyone I knew (is there any light less flattering than an airport’s?). I waited in the hideous line, handed the TSA man my papers. “Miss?” said the TSA man, a hundred travelers swirling around him. “Miss? I just have to say: You are glowing. Your skin! It looks amazing!”
I now do the peel that gave me The Glow Perceptible to Even the TSA Man once a week, and it is, in fact, amazing. *My other takeaway from my several hours at Tammy Fender is this delicious/super-slimming/impossibly elegant snack: Take a San-J black sesame rice cracker, spread it with hummus and top it with a thin slice of cucumber—like a tea sandwich, but healthier and infinitely more satisfying.