Maybe She Was Born
with It,
Maybe It's Microdermabrasion
Envious of starlets' glowing, flawless visages? It's likely
that many Hollywood ingénues have had a few sessions of microdermabrasion.
Referred to as the "lunch-hour facial" (you can go right back to work
after this facial, something you can't do after a skin-removing glycolic
acid peel), this is the most dramatic, effective skin treatment on the
market. It doesn't hurt or leave your face peeling and red, and the treatment
takes only 20 minutes. The only drawback is the price--$150 for the face
and $75 for the neck. The sterile process involves a mixture of water
and corundum crystals (also used for polishing teeth and precious gems),
which is administered with a suction wand. Joy-Marie Peterson of Joie
de Vie (715 SW Morrison St., suite 905, 224-8636) is the only aesthetician
in Portland with microdermabrasion equipment. It not only exfoliates skin
to a butter-like smoothness; it erases scars, acne, wrinkles and stretch
marks and can be used to treat hyperpigmentation and rosacea. You don't
have to believe in miracles to notice the effects of microdermabrasion:
A week later, my face still feels incredibly velvety, and my skin tone
is even (for once). Don't expect too much though; most people require
three sessions. (CM)
Rodent Love
Anyone
who's perused comic books recently knows that they're not strictly kids'
stuff, but were they ever? A number of vintage pornographic
cartoon booklets have recently turned up at Upper East Antiques
(4258 SE Hawthorne Blvd., 239-1900), featuring the otherwise tame Moon
Mullins, Winnie Winkle and Disney characters getting racy. Dating from
the '20s and '30s, these wallet-sized black-and-white pulp booklets
feature Mickey and Minnie engaging in explicit sex, frame by frame.
The "Tijuana Bibles," so named after their place of production, were
produced by both amateur illustrators and professional cartoonists moonlighting
outside the studios. In the age of lingerie modeling, Jenny Cams and
Pamela Anderson videos, these cartoon scenes are hardly arousing, but
they're well worth checking out. (JW)
Not-So-Cheap
Thrill
The rickety rides at Oregon amusement parks pale in
comparison to the high-tech coasters of Six Flags or the Magic Kingdom,
but the Wilsonville Family Fun Center (29111 SW Town Center Loop West,
Wilsonville, 685-5000) is doing its best to compensate with the new
Max Flight VR2002 virtual reality roller coaster. Passengers
design personalized two-and-a-half minute rides on a computer screen
before they enter the capsule-like cockpit. With digital guitar rock
blaring and high-speed images swirling, the machine spins around within
a 12-foot radius, matching the chosen corkscrew path. The birthday-party
set may squeal with joy, but I felt a little virtual nausea and my cohort
was indifferent to the experience. At five bucks a pop, and without
the thrill of a potentially fatal crash, your tokens are better spent
at the go-kart track. (LB)
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Willamette Week | originally
published January 27,
1999
|
