New Face of Skin Care : Arcona--only one name is necessary--befuddles the brain as she unties the knots with her lymph-draining, neuromuscular stimulating, just-this-side-of-ecstasy facial.

Lemme tell you how I was taught to take care of my skin in Ohio. Soap. Ivory soap. So-pure-it-floats soap. And water. And a washcloth.

Simplistic, perhaps. But that’s the Midwestern way. And it’s served me well for 25 years.

Then I get this job in Los Angeles, where nothing--not even ordering coffee--is simple. So it shouldn’t have surprised me, I suppose, that people out here are very serious about their skin. Especially the skin on their faces.

Enter Arcona and her holistic beauty therapy.

I stumbled into her Valley Village studio a few minutes late, frazzled by traffic, hunger and a story that was going nowhere. “Are you looking for Arcona?” asked the tranquil-looking, bearded gentleman sitting in the waiting room. He pointed me in the direction of a small room. I followed the sound of new-age Indian flute music through a curtain.

We weren’t in Ohio anymore, Toto.

I was greeted by the Nordic-looking Arcona, who wasted no time. Take off your blouse and lie down, she said. She tucked a pillow under my knees, covered me with a blanket, and we were off on a 90-minute ride toward a more radiant, glowing, healthy face.

We started with an Acu-Light treatment, a “cold laser” that stimulates the acupuncture points on the face without the needles. Sounded scary, but felt warm and tingly. Arcona said it promoted new cell growth. Sure. Whatever. (My Midwestern sensibility and reporter’s skepticism were still intact at this point.)

“This is not a typical facial,” Arcona said in her soft German lilt. They were the last words I remember clearly, because then she started the lymph-drainage massage. Arcona said people store toxins in their lymph nodes. Could be. They get all swollen when I get sick, I thought.

But as my toxic lymph supposedly drained away, so did all of my cognitive skills.

I tried, truly I did, to fulfill my journalistic duties. I asked a few questions and caught what answers I could through the acupressure ear massage. As she rubbed out all my tense points through my ear--and my lower back twitched involuntarily--she told me how she was a medical lab technician before she began her holistic education. She has fused her knowledge of Eastern medicines, homeopathy and nutrition into the various treatments available at her studio.

I think I managed to ask what she was rubbing all over my face. It was something she whips up in her kitchen. She’s tried to find another way to manufacture it, but nothing else produces the exact combination of resistance and lubrication she wants.

“Mmmmmmmm,” I said. And that was all I said because she started the facial contouring that has earned Arcona her one-name status. She has a last name, but she doesn’t need it. If my synapses had been firing, I would’ve figured out that anyone who can use only one name--like Madonna, Cher or Roseanne--must operate in very powerful circles.

Arcona doesn’t drop clients’ names. Does she contour actresses? “Oh yes.” And models. And a lot of “show business” people--producers and directors--who have a lot of stress.

I guess my stress was negligible compared to that of a producer $5 million over budget.

The contouring is a deep massage--as deep as she can press into your face without hurting you. Unless you play the trumpet like Dizzy Gillespie, your cheeks have never had aworkout like this. The neuromuscular stimulation is meant to strengthen your face, which Arcona said will help delineate your cheekbones and chin. The process is also known as the non-surgical face lift; with regular treatments, you’ve reportedly got a fighting chance against gravity.

Next was the honey treatment. Felt bizarre. Smelled wonderful. That’s all I remember.

I started to regain my grasp on consciousness during the neck and shoulder massage, especially when Arcona discovered those little muscular knots between my shoulder blades. But then I slid back down into near-oblivion while she prepared me for the oxygen therapy.

Arcona’s theory on oxygen therapy is this: Micronized vitamins, minerals, amino acids and enzymes are put on your face. Since the particles are so small, they get absorbed by your skin. Then Arcona sprays pure oxygen on your face. The oxygen molecules attach themselves to the micronized stuff, and it gets absorbed into your skin, too.

Why do you want oxygen in your skin? It gets rid of disease-causing molecules known as free radicals, which are also suspected of causing aging. It also cleanses and nourishes skin. Arcona told me the treatment was developed from methods used to heal the skin of burn victims.

Frankly, at this point, Arcona could have told me that this was a cure for cancer, and I would have nodded, slack-jawed.

Arcona also offers all-natural products, such as Color Essence makeup, Toner Tea Bar and Magic Green Ice regeneration gel, available at the studio or by mail. She can design personalized programs for people with problem skin.

But it costs more than Ivory soap.

Studio services can add up like legal fees--putting it well out of the range of my meager non-Hollywood salary. If that weren’t the case, I’d join the cult of Arcona and get massaged until I looked too young to drive.

WHERE AND WHEN

What: The Arcona Studio.

Location: 5507 Laurel Canyon Blvd., Valley Village.

Hours: 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. Tuesday to Saturday. Some Monday and evening appointments.

Price: Not cheap. Facial contouring is $55. Add $20 for the Acu-Light and aroma therapy. Add another $20 if you want Arcona herself. Oxygen treatment is $100.

Call: (818) 506-5192.