What's so good about personal beauty lasers?


What's so bad about surgery? Why shouldn't I inject poisons into my body? Who cares if it gives me cancer or makes me infertile as long as I look young? Must we suffer to be beautiful? Or will a cosmetic laser treatment fix everything safely and painlessly?


What is Low Level Laser Therapy?

"Low Level Laser Therapy or Laser Phototherapy is a method where light from a laser is applied to tissue (or cells in culture) in order to influence cell or tissue functions with such low light intensity that heating is negligible. The effects achieved are hence not due to heating but to photochemical or photobiologic reactions like the effect of light in plants. The lasers used are normally referred to as therapeutic lasers." Swedish Laser Medical Society

Low Level Laser Therapy is widely used in hospitals and clinics around the world to treat and cure a number of conditions including pain relief, problematic skin conditions and to promote healing in wounds or injuries.

Low Level Laser Therapy is beneficial in repairing damaged cells and speeds up and enhances the response of the body’s immune system as well as aiding pain relief. That is why it is so effective when used for skin rejuvenation and healing acne and skin blemishes - it restores the skin to a healthy, more youthful condition.

Also, if you are suffering from hair loss, low level laser therapy can help to stimulate the hair follicles into action again, resulting in new hair growth and healthier hair. Amazing but true.

Thursday, December 09, 2010

The facelift that made me fall in love with life again

Annabel Giles was one of Britain's top models, but nearing 50, illness and heartbreak had left her looking tired and old...

The wonderful Joan Collins famously once said: ‘The problem with beauty is that it’s like being born rich, and getting poorer.’

One morning in the summer of 2007, I looked at myself in the mirror and suddenly knew with searing clarity what she meant.

I hated what I saw staring back at me. In my youth, I had been one of the most celebrated models of my generation — a supermodel before the term had been invented. To take up Joan’s analogy, I hadn’t just been born rich; I’d been born a millionaire.

Now here I was, peering at my 48-year-old self in the mirror, wondering where my lovely face had gone.

It seemed as if it was slowly sliding off my head. I looked cross, tired and worried, even when I was feeling chipper. Put simply, my inside wasn’t matching my outside — a feeling most women no longer in the first flush of youth will recognise only too well.

I realised in that moment that I didn’t want to stand idly by as my looks slipped away. I wanted to look as good as I could, no matter what my age.

So there was only one thing for it — to go under the surgeon’s knife.

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