The Spa at Trump, Chicago

The Spa at Trump
401 N. Wabash Avenue
Chicago, IL 

Date of Last Visit: Sunday, November  7, 2010

The Victim: Me. And my Visa card.

The Damage: I'm trying not to think about it. $250 plus. Yikes! But I'm worth it. Really. I am.

The Background: I am tired. TIRED. Packing. Unpacking. Packing again. Cold weather. Warm weather. Cold weather. Thank God it's warm again. (But also thank God also that I had the foresight–while it was warm–to purchase a down coat because it's November 9th as I write this and it's not going to be warmer much longer.)

So what does one do when one is tired? When one's skin is not as glow-y as it normally is? 

Well, one books oneself into the Spa at Trump, of course.

(I don't know where that vein on my foot came from. It's not there now, I swear. Likewise, the stripes on my feet? Must be from the socks.)

I arrived 45 minutes prior to my appointment–as directed–and I only wish I had arrived even earlier. The locker room was huge and full of so many nice little touches.

AFTER I used the steam room and sauna, I discovered this little tray of goodies. There's a body scrub and a face mask and all sorts of lovely relaxing oils. I slathered my face with more product and retreated (again) to the eucalyptus-tinged steam room, waiting for the mask (masque?) to work its magic.

The steam room and sauna at the Spa at Trump are utilitarian but perfect. I enjoyed the steam room particularly so. The sauna, on the other hand, was a tad on the cool side, despite registering what I swear was 140 degrees. (I've since researched this and I was not wrong. A typical sauna runs between 150 and 190 degree Fahrenheit.) 

After enjoying all the amenities of the ladies' room (including the slippers–which I swiped), I headed into the spa for my appointment. The relaxation area boasts both a communal area and male/female relaxation rooms. I poured myself some tea and helped myself to some dried fruit and settled in for my appointment. While I was waiting, I had the loveliest time talking to a couple who had just finished up their treatments and had much information to impart. They suggested I try My Spa at The Fairmont and I've thus added it to my list.

My therapist soon arrived to take me in for my treatment, the Ultimate Urban Facial. This is a 90 minute facial that includes a foot massage. (Regular readers will know that I am nothing but a sucker when it comes to anything related to reflexology. London readers, if you haven't already, please visit my friends at Kobkhun Thai on the Essex Road.) She was perhaps the most informative therapist I've ever had, patiently explaining each product she was using and its benefits. (She also asked me beforehand if I wanted to know what she was doing or if I preferred to just relax. I opted for the info.)

The facial itself was a fairly standard one, with the exception, of course, of the gentle reflexology. If I can be honest, I prefer a bit more pressure and I don't feel that the foot massage was really reflexology but rather just a nice foot rub. But I was so dozed by this point that I said nothing and just let myself relax. I'd also note that one of the products–Kate Somerville's Exfolikate–was VERY tingly on my sting. The novelty wore off quickly and I was glad when it was removed.

My favorite product (as always) was the serum, which gave my skin that dewy glow that erases pollution and red wine and too many crisps and all sorts of other bad things.

Afterwards, I retreated to the woman's relaxation area, where I helped myself to more tea, more dried fruit, and the magazines. My only complaint here is that the room could have been a bit darker.

The Verdict: This is a very good spa. A large spa, with many services. Many people would like it here. I could imagine going back with a gaggle of girlfriends. Although whether they'd want to pay the $245 plus *recommended* 20% gratuity is doubtful. (And when you're informed at check-out that they recommend a 20% gratuity, how awkward do you feel saying, "Um, how about 17.5%.) Truth be told, the spa at The Mandarin Oriental in London is still my all-time favorite and worth every penny.