I joined one of those group coupon things about a year ago, and became annoyed something rapid: none of the offers were in any way convenient to where I was living. I am a public transport enthusiast — okay, ‘enthusiast’ is not exactly correct, ‘user because why run a car in a city?’ is probably more like it — and even with my extensive knowledge of the bus, tram and DART systems, it was a huge pain in the arse to get to some of these places. I’d be spending any savings on fares! Pointless.

And then I discovered LivingSocial and found a deal right in my own front garden as it were. [Plus, this site seems to have deals on stuff as well as hairdos and paintball.] Funnily enough, I had only noticed that there was a place called We Love Laser right there on Georges Street, just the other day, and then, they were offering a Laser Facial on the LivingSocial site.

Laser! Anytime I think of laser, I think of this, which I know isn’t remotely correct. Is it? I don’t know, man: The Fear. I love technology, but I also love my face the way it is, and the idea that anybody’s going to get all Darth Vader up in my grill…

Let me show you The Fear.

Poor me! Look at my eyes! Mainly, and weirdly, at my right eye, which seems to be demonstrating a larger proportion of the fear? I swear, my palms were sweating buckets! But there I was anyway, because those freckles that I used to think were cute and temporary are no longer either, and I would like them gone, plz.

Now here’s the thing: you cannot mess around with this jazz. Aesthetic Technician Julia McHugh put the fear of God into me, and well done her, because this is your precious face we are talking about, and you cannot lie about when was your last self tan, or if you are ‘doing’ retinol in any of its forms, or anything. Just don’t. I am the first person to fudge about whatever, whenever — of course I did a patch test! — and conversely, am the first to also get totally paranoid about minding the rules.

So, okay, I haven’t been tanning for weeks, and oh, crap, I was just horseriding that day, and it was sunny — I wasn’t supposed to be out in strong sunshine! I had loads of SPF on, though!

Julia assured me that I was fine. She laid out the way it was going to feel — damp, and a little hot in places — and that the aftercare was really important:  lashings of aloe vera, because my face would most likely feel quite hot afterwards, for a day or two, and that my skin would darken before it got lighter, and that I should be staying out of that strong sunshine.

Hot? I immediately imagine my pores smoking like Vesuvius. Dark? Like what, like über freckles or something? Could I still run over to the shops after the treatment? Did I need to hide under my bed?

Because, you know, if I am going to be scared, I am going to take it all the way.

Here are the other before shots, just for reference:

What does a laser facial do, exactly? It is nonablative, which means, non-invasive, which means you won’t get all bruise-y or irritated. There’s no general anaesthesia of any sort, and you can see the results right away {which I didn’t believe.}

So: cotton pads go on the eyes, and then little plastic cuppy things on top of those. Then zap-zap-zap around the face, and not so bad after all! It got a bit ouchy around the edges of my face, due to the bone of my skull I reckon, but otherwise, grand. This treatment is also something of a two-fer: it zaps stray facial hairs into oblivion. I knew this worked from the scent of scorchio-ed fuzz. Zap.

Sometimes the light that flashed behind my eyes was white, sometimes red. It felt like it took forever but if it was 20 minutes, I’d be surprised.

Then it was over, and I could breathe more easily.

And then. As I sat there and Julia ran through the after care one more time {seriously, I really needed the repetition. Maybe that is why my right eye was was the scarediest one? Because my left brain was all WTF? Does not compute?} — and then. I — I felt something. Something different. On my face.

I blurted, ‘Okay, am I imagining this, or can it actually be tighter around my eyes already?’

It could. Julia explained that the laser not only stimulates the the formation of new collagen, it also remodels the old collagen that we have in our skin. ‘If you imagine collagen as long strings that, with age, start to spread apart and get stringy,’ she said, ‘Laser makes them pull very close together and get shorter and fatter like they were when you were younger.’

The heat, the darkening, the other stuff that I freaked myself out about? Not as bad as Julia intimated — well, she didn’t intimate it, and she even said she was making it sound worse than it was. I spent the evening catching up on Homeland, and bathing my face in aloe vera gel. It did feel a tiny bit hot, but nothing like I could fry an egg on my gob. No scabs, very little itching, and the next day…

The next day I got my first compliment. Yes: that fast. A dude I hadn’t seen in a couple months was all like, You look five years younger, what have you done?!?!

Will I go back for more? We’ll let some pictures do the talking, next week.

***

Go to livingsocial.com for deals in your area, including great getaways, beauty and fitness, and meals.

We Love Laser Medical Aesthetic Clinic is located at 82 Upper Georges Street, Dun Laoghaire. Visit http://www.welovelaserireland.com for the full menu of treatments.