BODY WATCH : INDULGENCES :...

Pedicures are simply good grooming, not extravagances.

--Mom Wedlan

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Feet respond well to a massage because there are so many muscles which help withstand stress.

--Rob Landel, assistant professor of clinical physical therapy, USC

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I chanced upon a top-notch salon in Pasadena. Relaxation began at the doorsill with classical music, followed by Victorian furnishings, flowers, chandeliers, and a ceiling covered stratus-fashion with material.

Gayana, the owner, said: “My clients come in very stressed. I cannot fix their lives. But I try to do everything I can here to help lessen their stress.” A black-and-white photo of the “I Love Lucy” classic Vitameatavegamin episode made me smile. Otherwise, the walls were not littered with pictures of stars.

“I have actresses who come here, but I don’t think pictures of them would make my other clients feel good about themselves. I wanted this to be a homey and warm place,” she said. It is just that. Moreover, the staff is affable and fun, not that phony “nasty nice” as Mom calls it.

Ruthie, the manicurist, offered up an upholstered seat.

(“Every time your heel comes off the ground you’re subjecting the ball of your foot to 110% of your body weight,” Rob Landel, of USC, told me. No wonder it felt great to sit, considering we take about 10,000 steps a day.)

Coffee was served in a clear glass cup with saucer while my feet soaked in a water-filled foot bath with vibrating nodules at the base. Ruthie shared her pumpkin bread. She checked the water temperature.

After 15 restful minutes, one leg was hoisted out of the bath to be propped up on a tapestry hassock. An emery board whittled down every callous. Ruthie applied the toenail clippers with care. Cuticle oil was smeared on, followed by a cuticle push and nippers. Ruthie pushed and nipped without incident.

My foot was dipped back into the water. She put on an exfoliating cream from knee to toes and worked the cream with a light massage. Then the cream was washed off with a scrub brush. This process was repeated on the other foot and leg.

Ruthie brought out a small bowl full of goopy stuff. It looked awful, smelled beautiful. The chamomile mask was brushed on my feet, which were bagged in plastic and slipped into heated booties. I studied this electric mukluk arrangement perched on the hassock for 15 minutes. That’s when I went woolgathering, accompanied by Gregorian chants. I’ve done my share of woolgathering but never while listening to a plainsong. Ruthie dragged me back by removing the boots. My feet were returned to the water, where they were bathed lightly and towel dried.

Ruthie initiated the 15-minute massage by slathering on aloe lotion from toes to kneecap. She combined two techniques--Swedish massage and reflexology.

The massage commenced at the calf and shin with circular motions of the palm, then fingertips. She worked her way south to the ankle, where thumbs made concentric circles at the front and back of the ankle. Palms moved to the heel, which was rubbed. Palms and fingertips massaged the top of the foot before heading to the arch, where knuckles pressed in, up and down, repeatedly.

Next, thumbs worked the arch. Toes were tugged slightly and then made to go in tiny circles. Ruthie grasped the entire set of toes and rocked them back and forth. She managed to grip the foot so that the top portion pushed back, toward me, and held it long enough for me to feel something within.

“That’s a stretch,” Ruthie said. (“That’s the fascia,” Landel explained, “a broad ligament, that was stretched.” It’s not everyone who you can entrust with your fascia.)

She continued to massage the foot with motions directed away from my body and then finishing touches were directed toward me.

(“That’s another nice thing about massages,” Landel said. “You’re on your feet all day, so gravity brings fluid down into your feet. During the massage you’re seated and that helps drain the fluid back out of the feet and up to your heart. It’s sort of like replenishing nutrients and getting rid of waste products that formed pools in your feet.” I had no such stagnation by the time Ruthie was done with me.)

I sat at Gayana’s escritoire, which served as the reception desk, to pay $39. (I got a discount by combining two foot treatments that cost $22 a piece.) A picture of her 65-year-old mother rested on the desk. I decided to bring my 78-year-old mom back here with me next time. She’s still looking for the perfect pedicure. We may have found it.

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Postscript: Avoid joints where you’re hustled in and out for a slapdash pedicure. You may have to call around to find a salon that offers therapeutic beauty services. Once you find a place, show up with open-toed shoes if you intend to have polish. Wear a skirt or baggy britches so your legs are accessible. Be daring: Don’t tell anyone where you are for that hour and a half. I found that the impossibility of intrusion bettered my chances at relaxing.