What If the Best Thing We Give Our Clients Isn’t the Treatment?
LaPlume came into my life during a time when I needed care in a way I had never needed it before.
We had lost our first baby, Max.
I grew up with the notion that there were different ways to take care of yourself, but suddenly I needed to dip deeply into my own self-care without knowing where that journey would take me.
What I realized on the other side was how much my village had carried me.
I had people around me. I had rituals. I had little things I could reach for when life felt heavy.
And I remember thinking:
“I have all these tools and I have all these people, but does everybody have all these tools and all these people?”
Honestly, the thought that followed was pretty simple:
I should create a business.
Max was our first child, and we believe LaPlume became a kind of rebirth and extension of him.
When I was moving toward having Adaline, I did it the way I needed to.
I stopped letting unsolicited advice guide me. I cared for myself. I surrounded myself with my people. And I did the things that made me feel fulfilled.
Between birth, loss, rebuilding and beginning again, LaPlume became much bigger to me than a product line.
It became a way to extend some of what had been given to me.
A way to help someone find five minutes. Or five seconds for themselves.
A way to remind her that care can still belong to her, even when life is asking a lot.
Meet Sasha, and explore more from LaPlume →
PRODUCTS — The Things I Actually Reach For
|
|
That is probably why I have never thought about tools as something you collect because a routine says you should.
To me, they have to become useful enough that you actually reach for them.
The 100% Pure Organic Plum Oil I chose to source and develop is one of those things. I use it for cleansing, hydration, massage, Gua Sha and facial cupping because it gives me the slip I want with a light finish. And the smell is part of it for me too—fresh French pastry, something baking in your grandmother’s kitchen. Familiar. Nostalgic. Comforting.
Then there is the Gua Sha I chose to design, ergonomically crafted and weighted for my hands.
Even with a tool designed this intentionally, I always teach hands first.
Touch your face. Don't judge, just notice what you feel. Then let the Gua Sha become an extension of your hands, helping you discover a deeper level instead of replacing them.
The Glass Facial Cups, to me, are the pièce de résistance. The cherry on top that, even in a simple service, can be used to zhuzh and plump the eyes and lips.
But the tool is never the whole story.
I once described my tools as being like a water bottle.
You don’t schedule some elaborate ceremony every time you need water. You reach for it because your body knows what it needs.
Sometimes my version of that is five seconds with my fingers or a tool between my eyebrows.
That counts too.
EDUCATION — The Village Gets Bigger
I am very loyal to the practitioners I trust with my own care because they have gone so deep into what they do that they are no longer giving me what I call “a service on the surface.”
They tailor the experience to the person in front of them. They notice me, not just the service they are there to perform.
Those experiences have shaped how I teach.
My approach has always been intention + attention. Sometimes I joke, “Intention plus attention equals no tension.” But underneath that is something I take seriously.
What are we noticing? What feels different today? What do our hands tell us about this client, specifically today, before we reach for the next tool?
And I believe us practitioners have to experience some version of that care ourselves.
“You have to be able to accept self-care to give it.”
I had tools. I had people. I had a village.
Everyone’s village is unique to them and their journey. But we can share what we know, learn from one another, and become more aware of the care we need ourselves.
My hope is that you have access to give that care to yourself, receive it from others, and recognize the people and practices that become your own village.