Get over your bender with the help of these Hangover-relieving treatments at three Chicago spas.
Monticelli Mud Therapy at Fuga Salon + Spa I’ve always been a semi-skeptic of the concept that a spa treatment could eliminate toxins from your system, but if there’s any time I’d like to believe it’s possible, a morning after drinking is it. After I soak up a moment of sun in the salon, which overlooks Millennium Park, my aesthetician Agata preps my body to absorb the mineral-rich Monticelli-imported mud. She applies a thin layer to my front and back sides, massaging my arms, legs and back as she rubs it in. The earthy-meets-citrusy smell transports me to a natural bath in Italy, and as I’m wrapped, cocoonlike, in insulating Mylar, the mud heats up. It’s so cozy I begin to doze off as Agata’s fingertips circle my temples, only to be revitalized by the potent peppermint fragrance of Comfort Zone’s hair-conditioning treatment, which she massages into my scalp. Once the mud has dried, Agata leaves me to shower in privacy; I could easily spend 15 minutes washing off under the steaming deluge but figure she’ll want to finish up. Regardless of whether the therapy rid my system of toxins (I couldn’t say), I’m pleased to find the mud’s scent remains postwash…leaving me feeling particularly refreshed, awake and nausea-free. She lathers me up with hydrating oil and I’m on my way. 75 minutes, $135. 8 S Michigan Ave (312-332-3842).—Jessica Herman
Hangover Herbie at Bliss Spa For the first time in my life, I wish I were a little more hungover. But the great thing about this treatment at Bliss is that you’ll enjoy it whether you went on an all-night bender or if you only have a slight headache after a couple glasses of wine. To kick things off, Fred, Bliss’s lead technician, rubs my arms and legs in a soothing essential oil of lavender, bergamot, lemon, thyme, peppermint and eucalyptus, and then insulates my body in a warm Mylar wrap. Once I’m all tucked in, I’m treated to the Triple Oxygen facial mask, which feels like little pops of air soothing and revitalizing my skin. Next up is the anti-migraine massage, and it’s at this point that I wonder how I’ll ever be able to get over a headache again without the help of Fred. His gentle strokes around my temples and sinuses lure me to the brink of sleep. I’m awake, though, when the soothing blast of cool oxygen is sprayed on my face, and by the end of the treatment I’m feeling refreshed and ready for another night out. 90 minutes, $215. 644 N Lake Shore Dr (312-255-4496).—Kevin Aeh
Ionic Body Cleanse Detox Treatment at Blo Salon & Spa If you’re hungover, you might have a hard time wrapping your head around the description of how this treatment works. There’s talk of free radicals, positive and negative ions, osmosis and other tenets of high-school chemistry, but the gist is this: You soak your feet in a warm footbath connected to a water-ionizing machine, which is also attached to one of your wrists. The negatively charged ions the machine emits are then released into the water and enter your body through your feet, thus enabling your cells to release accumulated toxins such as oils, acids and heavy metals. Although the treatment’s merits are widely questioned, my aesthetician mentions some of her regular customers whose body aches and insomnia have been cured by weekly treatments; a half-hour soak purges six-month’s worth of toxins, while one hour releases a year’s worth, she says. As my tired feet soak and I relax in the comfy chair, the water starts to turn a cloudy black. The foamy bubbles accumulating on the surface, she says, indicate heavy metals, while the black and brown indicate the toxins are coming from the liver (fallout from the week’s alcohol-fueled revelry?). Similarly, orange means toxins from the joints, brown for liver, yellow for kidneys, etc. I feel rejuvenated and relaxed but alert when it’s over, and unsure whether it was the meditative half-hour foot soak at work or the unseen forces of those negative ions. 30 minutes, $45; 60 minutes, $85. 826 W Armitage Ave (773-477-2256, blochicago.com).—Martina Sheehan