I’ve totally become a bougie spa lady and I love it. Twenty-year-old me would be devastated that I’m about to spend a weekend in some mineral pool on a beach instead of protesting against or advocating for something, but whatever. Twenty-year-old me no longer exists.
Not too long ago, after spending a solid eight hours enjoying the mineral pools at the Oak Bay Beach Hotel, I ended up in a conversation with a woman in the change room. The pools here were even better than the ones in Whistler, she told me, had I been? No, not yet, I said. She had started a conversation after hearing me mention that the amenities (individual combs, razors, creams, etc) at the Peninsula Beverly Hills were unbelievably good (where I actually only used the bathroom, but she didn’t need to know that). I was almost mocking in the way I initially engaged with her. Do I look like the kind of person who can afford to vacation at the spas in Whistler? But then she asked me if I had ever been to Sparkling Hill, and she got me. All my judgement fell away as we chatted about how incredible their seven different steam rooms are. What about Ti-Na-Mara? she asked. Oooh, I’m heading there next month! It’s pretty good there, you’ll like it, she assured me on her way out of the change room.
After she left I turned to my friend Elexa, shocked, At first I was like, why is this bougie spa lady talking to me? And then I realised that I am a bougie spa lady. And I have absolutely no apologies about it to my twenty-year-old self, or anyone else for that matter. Spas rule and I’m incredibly lucky to have a life that allows me enjoy them, if only a couple times each year.
(Upon re-reading I realise how braggy this post is. I’m going to publish it anyways. I’ll be too busy enjoying Ti-Na-Mara this weekend to write something more humble.)