Breast cancer and the beauty industry go hand in hand

Beauty as therapy is not something I discovered the first time around.  Though I don't dismiss the difficulties of mastectomy and reconstruction, that experience was fast and easy for me in comparison to this winter's trials.  Cancer Round 2 has come with chemotherapy, and that's a whole different ball game.

While drugs spare most people the really nasty side effects, you just don't feel well.  For months.  Meanwhile, the treatment changes your appearance in far more significant ways than the breast surgery alone.  There's the hair, of course.  Add blotchy skin and occasional acne.  And weight gain.  (Far more typical these days, given the steroids in the drug mix, than loss.)  Add all that up, carry it on for five months, and you just don't feel very good about yourself.

In cancer Round 1, I learned to honour and respect plastic surgeons.  Round 2, I have a whole new perspective on make up, and new skills I will take with me when body and face return to something approaching normal.

There's a great charity called "Look Good, Feel Better" that deserves your support.  They put together workshops for cancer patients, great afternoons where you get around a table with women who are sharing your journey, have a cup of coffee and get make up tips from professionals.  Waiting for each woman is a goody bag jammed with beauty products donated by sponsors (notably Boots).  Cleansers, moisturisers, perfumes, pencils, bases, and eye lip and cheek colour.  A veritable treasure trove.  At my session, there were almost as many volunteers as attendees, so each woman got plenty of one-on-one coaching and makeover time.

If you want to donate to the breast cancer cause but feel like exploring something a bit different, do check out their web site at www.lookgoodfeelbetter.co.uk.  You can give cash or time.

A more glamorous invitation came from the Harrods' "Nurture Card" given to me by my breast cancer nurse early in my treatment.  I'd tossed it into a pile and hadn't planned on using it.  That was back before I fully grasped the challenges of the treatment.  By month five it was a very special, and valued, treat.

Turns out there's a spa on the 5th floor of Harrods called "Urban Retreat", and the Nurture Card is their  nod to corporate social responsibility.  It gives you a Creme de la Mer facial followed by a makeup consultation and makeover free of charge, plus a 20 per cent discount at their wig boutique.  The spa therapists all seemed familiar and at ease with cancer patients, and there was no pressure to buy extra stuff.  Given that the facial alone has a list price of £120, this turned out to be an essential part of therapy.  (Although the wig discount is a bit disingenuous; turns out cancer patients don't have to pay VAT on wigs, which is all the discount is.)

The facial was my first encounter with Creme de la Mer, a beauty product with such a following ... and so expensive ... it's made the pages of The Wall Street Journal.  I've never been tempted to lay out more than £100 on a small pot of moisturiser, even if it was developed by a rocket scientist and comes with plenty of scientific validation.  But I'll admit there must be something to the sea kelp-based miracle broth, because I can't remember my face ever feeling so magnificently hydrated.  A feeling that lasted at least partially through the next day, which is a good deal longer than the average facial's effects.  I was also impressed by the spa room, which had a curving wall dominated by an aquarium filled with neon tropical fish.  Sadly, you're still in the middle of London, meaning all that relaxation seeps from your body with the commute home.  I'll stick to lesser treatments in spas that don't require an exit via crowds and public transport.