I woke up this morning full of anticipation, full of the knowing that this morning in particular was monumental, that I was about to be given a great gift.
No, it’s not my birthday, nor do I have the day off to amble around London amusing myself. I was excited because it was peel time, aka the day those of us who periodically use exfoliating foot masks know as the snake losing its skin phase.
And so after brushing my teeth and cleaning my face, I sat on the edge of my bed, tissue in hand to collect my sheddings, indulging in five minutes of gently easing away the portions from which my feet longed to be divested with great gusto. By the end of the session, the tissue was heaped with dead skin, and I tucked my feet into socks until the next bits of my feet were ready for similar.
You likely find this revolting. A cursory google has revealed to me that most do. But not I; I adore the task of tugging off those dry, desiccated steps of skin to reveal buttery soft feet underneath, and generally do this at around this time of year to prep mine for the festive season where they are more likely to be thrust into pretty shoes for an evening out.
Let’s rewind in case you’re not acquainted with either that moment or the very concept of exfoliating foot socks. You will find these things everywhere when you look for them online and on the shelves of pharmacies, and, should you ask people you know, it’s likely that at least half of them will tell you with enthusiasm that they regularly peel theirs.
Effectively a big plastic sock filled with a pain-free acid that you don for around an hour (I used Grace & Stella’s, £12.10, amazon.com, and that’s how long they require), you then remove the socks and… nothing happens. Nothing also happens for the next four days or so, aside from the sensation of skin tightening and your feet starting to resemble a tortoise of towering age as the skin shrinks.
At this stage, you mustn’t moisturise, or be tempted to try to usher the process along by using a pumice or similar. The key is to wait patiently and know the time will come. When it does one magical morning you will either like me find the process of the peel thrilling or disgusting.
Irrefutable though is the result: baby soft feet. This is a good thing in a sense, soft feet being pleasing things – though be aware that they don’t fare too well in strappy stilettos, as I found out one fateful late night last year at Gerry’s, wincing at 3am while singing along to The Fairytale of New York as they cut into my skin that was wholly unprepared for such an assault after being softened by the socks.
That aside, though, they’re an easy win for feet that look and feel tired and in need of a bit of love. Just remember to pack some Compeeds if you intend on dancing the night away straight after use.
