All products are independently selected by our editors. If you buy something, we may earn an affiliate commission. We complain when the mercury goes below 50 or above So the idea of being massaged with both ice-cold and scalding-hot stones made us a bit wary. After coating our skin with a silky lotion, our masseur ran the degree stones over our limbs, eventually nestling a few under our hands, feet, and rib cage.
While the warmth of those rocks radiated outward, he pressed some icy ones into other areas. The contrasting sensations left us energized and our muscles loose. It turns out that we can take the heatβand the cold. No one goes to Saulnier for a garden-variety massage. Known widely around town as "the fat whisperer," she has a reputation among the Hollywood elite for shooing away stressβand sag. But we were still taken by surprise when she handed us a paper thong and ordered us to strip.
She then slathered on a cinnamon-and-cayenne-pepper mud mask and wound Ace bandages around our thighs before zipping us into a compression sack. The heated cocoon held us in a long, tight hug and kneaded every muscle.
When we emerged, she vigorously rubbed our lower half, paying close attention to our tight calves and hamstrings. By the end, our legs were two sizes smallerβand haven't filled out an inch in days. We told Wescott we enjoy the benefits of deep-tissue but can't endure intense prodding.
She began untangling our knots in the most humane way possible, seeking out sore areas and rubbing them to gauge how much pressure we could take.
