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Peachy Skin Bar Singapore review: How did this bespoke membership, fully customisable beauty salon fare?

Peachy Skin Bar Singapore review: How did this bespoke membership, fully customisable beauty salon fare?

Game face on

Text: Emily Heng


Image: Instagram | @dustyrobe
Image: Instagram | @laceystudio

The spa and wellness sector has seen a multitude of changes over the last couple of years, but there's no denying that it, essentially, retains its crux. You go to a salon, opt for a treatment to remedy an ailment afflicted upon your visage, endure hours of aggressive sales talk from your therapist as they slough away two layers of your skin (and patience), before eventually conceding to a package. Occasionally, there's additional commentary about the dire state of your complexion, too, said with a kind of graveness that will have you wondering if you've been mistakenly washing your face with wet concrete all this time.

Maybe this is what they mean when they say beauty is pain. Or, maybe, it's because we haven't been fortunate enough to experience anything different. Enter: Peachy Skin Bar — a haven of self-care, acceptance, and, potentially, the change within the industry we skincare savants so desperately need.

The premise

Founder, Crystal Lee, set out to create a space that serves as the antithesis of typical beauty salons. Translation: no packages, judgmental therapists, or hard-selling techniques that will leave you feeling more drained than your skin post-extraction. Instead, she relies upon a membership tier system. Customers can pay a fixed membership fee and be able to enjoy their treatments at discounted prices with no hidden add-ons.

Yes, this allows for full customisation — meaning you can opt for treatments depending on your complexion needs for the day, rather than electing for the same facial every time in a bid to complete your package. Customers will then be able to end off their experience on a sweet note, with complimentary drinks (including bubbly, FYI) offered post-facial.


The procedure

If you, like me — that's beauty writer, Emily Heng, by the way — have difficulty deciding on just about anything, take a leaf from my book and leave it to the professionals. In this case, it's the Omakase Facial, where you let your therapists have full control in tailoring your treatment based on your complexion needs and wants. It is also the only treatment within Peachy Skin Bar to utilise pharmaceutical-grade skincare and medi-spa aesthetic equipment. I indicated my interest in the procedure before making my way down to the space located on Beach Road.

Upon entering, I was lulled into a state of calm by the lilting French music piping through the speakers and millennial-pink furniture abound. Think Glossier, except with a lot more velvet upholstery. Once the requisite Covid-19 checks were conducted, I sat down with founder, Crystal, to let her evaluate my mien. I informed her of my various skincare concerns (clogged pores, hyperpigmentation) whereupon she patiently went through my treatment plan with me. We agreed on a light extraction, an oxygen facial, and an add-on eye mask to give the illusion of a full eight hours of restful sleep.

My therapist went straight into it, cleansing off my makeup with a thoroughness that felt impressive even to me i.e. a veteran facial-attendee. It was almost a reflex, at this point, where I braced myself for a stinging remark or two about the dismal state of pores. To my surprise, it never came. In fact, the only comment my therapist made was about my mascara. "Is this waterproof?" she asked, after the eighth attempt at prying it off my lashes. I managed a sheepish nod.

The extraction was no walk in the park. I had tears streaming down my face around ten minutes in, though I did appreciate the brisk, no-nonsense way my therapist squeezed at my face. I could be sobbing and she'd probably ask me to tilt my head a smidge to the left so she could extract the stubborn suckers on my chin (jk), but I'd say it's worth it for the good of my complexion. Once that was done, a soothing mask was applied to my skin before it was continually injected with oxygen. In between waiting for the magic to set in, I was given hand massages and rubdowns along my décolletage.

The pay-off

I emerged feeling as if I did get a rare, downright mythical eight whole hours' worth of sleep. Not because I dozed off during my treatment, but because my skin had the bouncy, 'mochi' quality to it only achievable through constant hydration and a heck lot of zzz's. No exaggeration, but my complexion has never looked quite this clear — or smooth — in a while. Perhaps it was also aided by the fact that I wasn't stressed out about reaching the end of my treatment. Or, as I like to call it, prime time for therapists to harangue you about signing that damned package, already. Instead, I got to swan out of my treatment room and down a glass of bubbly in complete peace and quiet. Ah, true bliss.


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