What You Should Know About Disposable Underwear During Massage

I had a massage yesterday. It was a 75 minute salt scrub aromatherapy massage and it was HEAVENLY. I made a New Year resolution the year before last to spend some of my hard earned cash on reasonably frequent treatments for relaxation and well-being and I tend to alternate between full body aromatherapy massage, Indian head massage and facials.

I diddiversify a few months back, and booked a two-hour ‘Lomi Lomi’ massage, as a new treatment introduced by the practice. Although one of the top priced treatments, I had been feeling particularly crunchy around my shoulders and back and thought I’d splurge a little. Lomilomi is a word used today to mean “massage therapist” or “Hawaiian massage.” In the Hawaiian language, the word used traditionally, called lomi, means “to knead, to rub, or soothe; to work in and out, as the paws of a contented cat.”

Now believe it or not but I’m not one for getting my kit off completely during full body massage, but Mel, the masseuse, advised that for the Lomi Lomi, it would be wise to remove one’s pants and put on a pair of paper knickers as this particular massage requires long, constant, sweeping motions, and frankly, a lot of oil.

I obliged and put on this rather strange looking paper garment feeling somewhat conspicuous in such a silly, revealing thing. It barely covered my bum (Ok, ok, I know my arse is pretty big but even still…) and my, ahem, front bit looked like I was wearing a mankini. I tell you, If my front bit covered in a tiny scrap of paper was a piece of art work, it would have been painted by Picasso. Reminding myself that Mel sees all kinds of bodies each and every day, I settled down to enjoy my pamper session, flinching only slightly when Mel removed the covering towel to start work, revealing my nether regions covered in little more than a tiny paper hammock.

Anyway, the massage was delightful and worth every penny. It was incredibly relaxing, and I found myself drifting off into deep states of relaxation throughout, disturbed only by Mel’s gentle prompting for me to turn over or lift my head etc. After the two hours, I was left to dress and drop the tiny hammock into the waste bin. I ambled happily back to reception to pay and book my next treatment.

I thanked Mel and gave her some feedback about the massage. I remarked on the paper pants, laughing at their silly design and how ridiculous I must have looked in them.

Mel is a very lovely, extremely professional young woman, and if she wanted to laugh out loud she controlled it very well as she said:

‘I’ll let you in on a secret. They are a thong and you had them on back to front’.