I Keep Forgetting This is My Own Money

Every month I give my medspa $225. Every few months, I convince myself I found free money.

I left a facial the other day feeling so good that I wanted to spend money.

I didn’t even want to spend it on anything specific. I was driving home, excitedly gripping the steering wheel while blasting Mari Froes thinking, Oh my God, I want to rage so hard (in an emptying my bank account sort of way). Anyone else feel that way when they feel on top of the world?

I know this is probably a point against the facial, but please let me explain.

Every month, Alexis Lauren charges $225 to my Amex and deposits it into what they call “the Vault.” I’m a founding member so I pay less than the current $300 monthly rate, but every dollar becomes a credit I can use toward treatments or products nonetheless. Anything I don’t use rolls over forever, and my membership gets me a discount on treatments.

Essentially this means I’m giving Alexis Lauren $225 to put towards my future skincare budget. In exchange for letting them hold the money until I spend it, I get better pricing. A you scratch my back, I scratch yours situation (or at least that’s what I tell myself). This arrangement should probably make me feel like I’ve prepaid for things, but instead every time I go in, I feel like I’ve discovered free money.

When I get an $800 Dysport bill and $450 has accumulated in my account, I feel like I got a huge discount. Rationally speaking, I know that it was my money all along and that I forked it over, but psychologically, it trickled out of my bank account slowly enough that I have already emotionally recovered from spending it by the time I go to use it.

A bank for my face

I joined Alexis Lauren’s Bal Harbour location shortly before they opened (hence the founding member rate). A friend of mine did some design work for them before their first location opened in Coral Gables, which is how I ended up learning about them and following along on social media in the first place. That’s the extent of it. I pay the full founding member rate, nothing is comped, and no one there knows I’m even writing this into my Substack void.

When they announced a founding membership, I was skeptical. I looked into it mostly because it seemed too good to be true and I had never seen a medspa membership structured this way before. For $225 a month, the money wasn’t disappearing in exchange for some vague promise of “member access.” The entire dollar amount was safely set aside for me to spend when I was ready.

Alexis Lauren aside, I was already getting Dysport two or three times a year, plus the occasional Sculptra. There were also lasers and other treatments I was considering, but never moved forward with due to a combination of fear and never-ending research. It seemed every time I would get close to landing on something, the fear of putting my face out of commission for an extended period of time became too much to bear and/or a new laser or treatment would come out and the research clock would restart.

Before Alexis Lauren, I went to a dermatologist in Coral Gables who I absolutely loved. The only issue was that she was about 40 minutes away and I could easily spend almost $2,000 in one visit between Botox or Dysport and Sculptra.

The long-winded point I’m trying to make is that I didn’t need a medspa membership to convince me to spend money on my face. I was already doing that, albeit sporadically. The membership just allowed me to change when I spent it.

Instead of raw dogging a $1,000 treatment in one shot, I pre-spend $225 every month. Peanut-buttering the spend if you will. By the time I actually want something done, a good chunk of the money is sitting there waiting for me.

It is basically a sinking fund for my face except I have no control over said fund, which may actually be the reason it works for me. I can’t move the money, spend it anywhere else or talk myself out of it. It’s patiently waiting for me to use it for my personal skincare.

I am apparently a person who gets facials now

Until the other day, I got a facial approximately once every two years.

Thanks to generous friends, my last one was at Biologique Recherche in Paris, so the bar was high.

I loved the way I felt after that facial. Covered in Crème Masque Vernix I felt tingly and reborn. I made a mental note to do more of that and yet I hadn’t booked another one until recently.

Part of my hesitancy is my skin. It’s very sensitive and eczema-prone, and putting my face in the hands of a stranger who is about to apply 100 things without knowing how my skin will react has never been particularly relaxing to me.

Separately, I had also made up my mind that facials are uber luxurious. If I’m going to spend a few hundred dollars and an hour lying on a table, I’ve historically chosen a massage due to the full body nature of the experience. If you’re calculating cost per touch point, it just feels like a better deal.

Then I started complaining about my jowls.

Okay, “jowls” is maybe dramatic for a woman in her late-ish 30s. What I really mean is that I have started noticing slight changes around my smile lines and lower face. Likely due in part to spending every working day staring at myself in a Google Meet square.

I brought it up to the woman who does my Dysport. We talked about lasers and microneedling with PRP. I’ve talked to dermatologists outside the practice who have mentioned Fraxel and IPL.

I have also booked some of these appointments and then canceled them out of aforementioned concerns. Lasers make me nervous. Anything that requires me to stay out of the sun is not particularly compatible with Miami, and the combination of pain, downtime and my extremely reactive skin has made it difficult for me to commit to something when I’m not 100% convinced I’ll get the result I want.

The last time I went in, instead of suggesting another aggressive treatment, my injector recommended I start with a facial. She suggested a microcurrent treatment, noting it of course wouldn’t permanently change anything, but I could see how my skin would respond, get a temporary lift and potentially prolong some of that effect if I started doing facials regularly.

A facial I could handle. I could even get excited about it so I booked one.

One quick note: Some links below are affiliate links; I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. I link to things I’ve bought, things I’ve rejected, and things I’m still deciding on. I’ll always say which.

There is value in someone knowing your face

I had never met the facialist before, which would normally make me nervous, but she listened when I told her about my skin. When I reacted to something, she noticed. She dermaplaned, did extractions, massaged my upper body, suctioned my nose, did some sort of very hydrating situation (idk, my eyes were closed) and used microcurrent gloves. Aside from a NuFACE (which I love), I had never experienced anything microcurrent before and I think I’m hooked. This experience was that on steroids. The muscles in my face reacted so hard that it caused my arms to twitch. It felt like my buccal fat was put to work on a Pilates reformer.

What I enjoyed most about the experience was that it was on my terms. I was grateful to past me for carving out this time for myself. I again felt rejuvenated and thankful that I could lay on a table for an hour and be slathered like a French baguette while gravity helped these fancy serums seep deep into my dermis. I’m really trying to live a more unhurried lifestyle and this was an hour of doing just that. Looking good, feeling good, am I right?

I also appreciated that no one was trying to sell me a new face. The facialist and I were working with what I have. She tried to tell me to mask. I said no. She told me to exfoliate around my nose. I said maybe. But that was the extent of it.

I think that’s another part of what I’ve accidentally been paying for.

I research almost everything I buy to an unreasonable degree, but I don’t necessarily want to optimize my face. I just want someone to know it and collaborate with me on what makes sense for me.

The woman doing my Dysport has seen my face repeatedly. She knows what I’ve done, what I hyper focus on and what I’m nervous about. When I started complaining about something new, she helped me explore my options, didn’t immediately try to sell me the most expensive solution and instead told me to start with the least permanent option possible. Now thanks to her I’ve found a facialist I trust, too.

There is a lot of value in building out a roster for your [gracefully] aging face.

The $2,700 problem

Let’s address the elephant in the room. $225 a month = $2,700 a year.

When I first did that math, I kombucha-girl’d.

Oh shit.

Followed almost immediately by:

But wait.

I could spend close to that in one visit to my old dermatologist.

If I’m remembering correctly, Botox or Dysport alone could be around $1,000. Add Sculptra and I could leave spending ~$2,000. If I do that twice a year, the $2,700 I’ve slowly contributed to Alexis Lauren doesn’t sound quite as insane.

I also know that this math only works for me because I was already spending the money. If I canceled my membership tomorrow, I’d still get Dysport. I might spend less overall, but honestly probably not? And when it comes to facials, my next one would likely be timed to the LA Summer Olympics.

Instead, before I left, I booked another facial for next month and I’m actually very excited about the appointment. That’s also worth something to me.

Settled

Sometimes when I see the $225 Alexis Lauren Amex noti I think to myself, come on ladyyy. Then when I go to use that credit later, it feels like finding cash in my jeans’ pocket. It was always my cash, but finding it makes me feel like I won something.

If you’re thinking all of this is irrational, just know you are probably right and that my husband agrees. I know the money is not free. I know that it’s my money that I gave them.

But the irrational part is what’s working for me. Feeling like I’ve found $450 is what gets me into the chair. If that money were still sitting in my checking account, I’d be weighing a facial against every other thing $300 could buy me, and the facial would lose, the way it has lost every time for the last several years.

I like that I don’t have to decide whether I should spend money on myself each month. I’ve already earmarked it and that small shift is enough to turn me from someone who gets one facial every two years into someone who already has her next one on the calendar. That makes me happy, okay!

Who this is wrong for

Which is also why I wouldn’t necessarily recommend this to most people.

When you check out at Alexis Lauren, there are no receipts and there’s no exchange of currency. I'm only told when I owe more than my available balance, which almost feels like you're at a hotel, charging everything to the room. That lack of friction can be dangerous in the wrong hands.

I would not recommend a membership like this to someone who is just starting to think about skincare and isn’t sure what they want. I would definitely not recommend it to someone who is budget-conscious but can be convinced they need every treatment on the menu.

The whole point is that it keeps pulling you back in which is great if you want to be there. Not so great if you don’t.

Personally, I thought I was signing up for a deal on injectables, but what I actually got was a commitment to taking care of my skin.

And sure, $2,700 a year could buy me a bag, but I barely carry a purse anymore. These days a purse is really just a vessel for Legos and Tractor Wheels (IYKYK) anyway.

Right now, I’d rather have good skin.

Receipts

Verdict: Proven for me. This is not a general recommendation for everyone! (see above for who this is wrong for).

What it replaced: A beloved dermatologist in Coral Gables, 40 minutes each way, roughly $2,000 a visit between Botox/Dysport and Sculptra, two or three visits a year.

What I paid: $225/month as a founding member ($2,700/year). The current membership is $300/month. Credits roll over forever. My membership gets me 25% off Facials, Botox/Dysport at $11.20/unit, and 10% off several other treatments.

What would change my mind: If I started accumulating credit faster than I could comfortably spend it, found myself booking treatments just because the money was there, or stopped trusting the people treating my face.

Revisit: August 2027.