La Forme d’Anvers - Parisien Organic Beauty Institute
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La Forme d'Anvers, a serene little institute cunningly disguised as an unadorned shop selling natural and organic beauty products, is one of Paris' best kept secrets. Hidden down the rue de Dunkerque, two minutes walk from Anvers metro station and less than 10 minutes from the Butte de Montmartre, La Forme d'Anvers is a sparkling example of a Parisien urban institute of beauty, offering independent advice and specialised treatments that focus on individual needs rather than purely offering a standard range of spa therapies.
Dedicated to the total well-being of the body, Myriam, the owner and driving-force behind La Forme d'Anvers, not only stocks natural potions and lotions from a variety of well-known organic cosmetic and beauty product manufacturers, such as Couleur Caramel and Dr Hauschka, but is also an expert practitioner. Using solely products and techniques from Dr Hauschka, the well-known purveyor of organic skin-care, the wise and business-like Myriam offers a small selection of treatments that are designed to energise and revitalise the entire body in her single treatment room at the rear of the establishment.
Hidden behind the open-plan shop-front, which is bedecked with shelves and shelves of organic perfumes, scented oils, herbal teas, skin creams and vitamin supplements, lies a tiny haven of calm - the treatment room. This simply decorated room, with its white walls, large mirror, and bed piled high with lavender-coloured towels and fleecy blankets, could almost be mistaken for a guest bedroom if it were not for the existence of the bottle-filled cabinet and an over-sized angle-poise lamp and the fact that it's actually a massage table that is masquerading as a bed. In fact, this is where the magical Myriam plays with her miraculous Dr Haushcka tonics and mesmerises her happy customers with calming perfumes and lulling massages.
When I arrived for my appointment she ushered me into the room like a brisk chemistry teacher before relieving me of my bag, coat and cardigan with a firm hand and telling me to remove my tights and shoes in preparation for a foot bath. Given that I was due to receive a facial, I was somewhat surprised at this request but Myriam's manner is unquestionable in its resolution. Like a meek schoolgirl I shuffled out of my shoes and wriggled out of my tights only to be told that the rest of my clothing had to be discarded also. My prim English modesty was quickly slung out of the window as I ended up sat on the massage table, legs dangling over the edge and chattering away, in somewhat mangled French, wearing only my underwear as Myriam bustled around me, arranging a basin of warm, scented water at my feet and slipping a bathrobe around my shoulders with practised ease.
With deft authority she proffered two types of oil and asked which I would prefer: the lavender or the spruce. This was to be the last time I had any choice in the treatment I received, from this moment on I was completely in Myriam's capable hands, which seemed to know intuitively which muscles needed stretching and which feathery touches across my face eased the tension in my brow. Like a scientist preparing an experiment she hovered over the chic water-filled wooden bowls, carefully measuring out drops of spruce oil to infuse the hot water with its naturally healing properties and waft its soothing aroma across the room, over my already relaxing body.
Feet now soft and smooth, she laid me back onto the massage table and shook a fluffy towel out over my body, which was swiftly followed by another over my legs, two more covering each arm, a criss-cross of towelling around my neck and a cosy fleece to insulate them all, making me feel as cosseted as a baby in swaddling. Taking my head in her smooth, soft hands Myriam first removed the tension from my neck and brow with a combination of strokes and rocking of my head before she began applying the wonderfully scented Dr Hauschka cleansers, masks and creams.
Given that I am prone to an aversion to oil, it's something of a miracle that within only 10 minutes of lying in the treatment room of La Forme d'Anvers I felt like my limbs were floating and my mind began to inanely wander rather than tensely concentrate on where the Myriam's balmy hands were going next. The products were so delicate and Myriam's touch so feathery that I barely felt my skin being caressed, I just felt the delightful sensation of lightness of being.
Into my befuddled mind floated visions of almonds, rose and pine forests as she alternately rubbed my face with ointments and covered it in hot, fragrant towels. After the cleansers came the facial massage, which stimulates the lymphatic system and aids detoxification; Myriam's fingers and then two brushes in tandem danced finely over my face like when a baker sprinkles flour on a rolling-pin. Then came the thick face mask, slathered on as if Myriam was icing a cupcake with gloopy fresh frosting. While it was working out the impurities Myriam turned her attention to my arms, which she had previously gently manipulated upwards and back, stretching out my shoulders and loosening my muscles. She then set to work on my hands, massaging in cream into each finger before turning her attention to each hand in turn, leaving them feeling cool and limp in repose.
As my facial came to an end Myriam applied the finishing touches to my body, spritzing my face with cool water and dusting it with powder before taking each of my feet in her hands and pulling away from my body firmly, to elongate my spine, and then turning my toes to the sky, to stretch out my calves. Dazed and confused I rose from the massage table to be met with a delicious cup of artichoke and liquorice tea, presented in a stylish teapot rested on a tray - the ideal end to a detoxing facial.
Myriam's motherly attention to detail, far more memorable than the corporate sheen and distant smiles of spa chains, is perhaps why La Forme d'Anvers has a loyal stream of clients that trek across the city for their weekly sessions. Myriam, with all her brisk certainty and unwavering conviction, is more than worth the metro trip across town.
If you find yourself in Paris, don't hesitate - book yourself in for a treatment and discover a whole new world of spas.
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