Apparently home spa products, "an amorphous category that can include anything from tooth-whitening strips to plug-in steam facials" is a growing market, since penny-pinching rich people are now skimping on spa retreats and plastic surgery. The article goes on to quote various experts who, unsurprisingly, debunk the products' claims. But snake oils aside, Marie Antoinette-like conceptions of economy aside, what the hell is wrong with us that this kind of a placebo is necessary?

I'm not under the illusion that rich women pampering themselves is a new phenomenon — Cleopatra, asses' milk, etc. and heck, even the Tin Man gets a shine in the Emerald City — but as we all know, the prevalence and attainability — nay, the pressure to pamper yourself! — of such products is relatively recent. I saw Cindi Leive, the Glamour editor, on the Today show the other morning talking about ways women could save money, and obviously beauty treatments came up. She made the point that small luxuries we take for granted — manicures and pedicures and facials — would have been pretty much unthinkable to prior generations. But whereas once getting treatments was the purview of luxury, now it's a necessary sign of the aggressive "self-love" that is apparently measured, ironically, by very traditional mercantile standards.

I for one am heaving a silent sigh of relief that the pressure to get professional grooming — because we're worth it, or something — is abating. What's obviously been a boon for various beauty and spa industries is a serious waste of money for the rest of us. Don't get me wrong: I know a thorough facial is a good thing when I can afford it, my home-polished toes never look any good and I enjoy a free ride in the massage chair when I'm at the Sharper Image, too. But the feeling that luxury — and more to the point, getting other people to do things for and to you — is an accepted part of women's lives might be one of the healthier casualties of the economic turmoil.

A Tupperware Party For The Body [New York Times]

Earlier: Some Six Year Olds May Have More Makeup Than Their Moms
How Many 8 Year-Olds Have To Get Bikini Waxes Before We All Agree The Terrorists Have Won?

• Pregnant singer Lily Allen has announced that she has turned down multiple offers to design a maternity line, given that so many of her fans are tween girls and feels that attaching her name to getting knocked up just "wouldn't be suitable." Jaime-Lynn, are you listening? [BBC]
  
• Lily also opened the Harrods sale today, clad in a very non-maternity backless black dress. She told shoppers: "Unfortunately I did come in earlier for a bit of a preview so there's not much left." Oh the rich: They're so funny! [The Mirror]
  
• Wednesday, Giorgio Armani himself took a little stroll through his SoHo Armani Exchange store while customers were busy shopping. It's not difficult to imagine him entering and musing proudly, arms outstretched, "These are my lands." [Page Six]
  
• Estee Lauder, Inc: Friend to farmers! [WSJ]

• The new Fendi baguette bag bears an uncanny resemblance to the Chanel 2.55 bag. Karl Lagerfeld, incidentally, designs both Fendi and Chanel. Coincidence? [Sassybella]
• The Prada Spring 2008 print ads have the same delightfully kooky aesthetic as the Prada Spring 2008 line. [Sassybella]
• Premiere fashion trade paper WWD reports that the biggest new trend for designers is getting into the cell phone market. Seriously, where have they been? Also, why doesn't anyone want to give me a Prada phone? [WWD, sub req'd]
• Former Conde Nast CEO Steve Florio passed away yesterday due to complications from a heart attack. [WWD, sub req'd]
• I plan to spend New Year's Eve at home in my pajamas. But you know what makes sitting at home in pajamas more exciting? Wearing a full face of make-up, a la Dita von Teese. [FabSugar]

Facialists used to clean pores, apply masks and rub cream on your face  now they "berate clients who eat poorly" and decide what kinds of peels, light therapy and high-tech skin treatments a client needs. Customers "used to treat us like maids," says Aida Bicaj, an aesthetician on the Upper East Side. "Now they are treating us like medical professionals." Except, of course, they're not. Aestheticians do have to undergo 600 hours of training to be licensed, and surely years of examining hundreds of faces add to their expertise. But their training does not even come close to matching a dermatologist's years of medical school. Still, women flock to them and obey. Rebecca Johnson first visited Ms. Bicaj's salon five years ago. She said that she didn't want electrical stimulation or any acid-based products on her sensitive skin. Ms. Bicaj, who charges $475 for a facial, overruled her: "Do you tell the doctor what you need? A client cannot tell me what she needs." A dozen facials and microcurrent procedures later, Ms. Johnson, 57, just loves her! "With Aida, my skin is better than when I was 35," she says. But what's with the attitude?

Sonya Dakar, an aesthetician who counts Gwyneth Paltrow as a client, tells the Times: "You can't be a diva unless you really know what you are doing. If you are spineless and vulnerable, you shouldn't come to me. I will tell them they have skin like a Shar-Pei." Christine Chin, an especially-strict aesthetician who ditched client Naomi Campbell for her chronic lateness, says, "I tell them, 'Your face doesn't match your neck.' Sometimes they start crying. If you don't like our rules, then we say, 'Goodbye, you can go somewhere else and you can keep your zits.'" The crazy thing is that an appointment with these women does not come cheap. Why are their clients willing to shell out cash to be berated? It's obviously possible to get good results without a caustic lecture. Are women with money so used to getting what they want that they feel a thrill in being told what to do, like powerful businessmen who are into S&M? Or are the aestheticians power-tripping, since they have women lying there, at their mercy? And would you continue to see someone who told you your skin was "saggy"  and give that person money? Because we'd be out of there before you could say "mircodermabrasion."

Aestheticians Who Get in Your Face [NY Times]