A 'cracked-heel, dry-skin foot relief', it said. 'The Number 1 foot care product in Japan', it boasted. Complicated sounding acids, oils and alcohols it contained. So a month ago with summer well on its way, I knew I had to try this product. I didn't spend half my pay cheque on a pair of new sandals for nothing. My winter feet needed serious work and this vowed to be just the ticket. BabyFoot, the Japanese pharmaceutical product that promises the world and swears to triumph any pedicure, ever, came from Amazon for £25.99. (You know it's getting serious when you order beauty products on Amazon, huh?). It arrived in my mail box a few days later and looked so innocent with its cute name and red and white packaging but reading the precautions it all sounded pretty intense. 'Keep the gel away from furniture.' 'Avoid using on children.' But then again don't they all these products go OTT with their H&S warnings?
Not exactly the nicest of pastimes shedding the skin from dry heels, I warned my housemates that this wasn't going to be pretty. Intrigued, they were keen to watch the whole process so there I was in the lounge, feet submerged in a bowl of hot water as the preparatory guidelines instructed. When you open the box, you'll find two clear plastic 'socks'. At least, they call them socks. I wouldn't call them socks. Made out of the cellophane — the type that wraps expensive flowers and overpriced chocolates — these are two gel-filled pouches which vaguely resemble the shape of a foot complete with sticky ankle ties. You slide your feet in and wince. Gross, slimy, cold and wet, it's like dipping your toes in a frogspawn pond. This better be worth it.
45 minutes later, feet still encased, I feel no different. There's no pain, stinging, discomfort. I peel off the socks and my feet look simply 'pruney'. They aren't 4 sizes smaller, there are still 5 toes, there's definitely still noticeable heel skin. So that was pointless? I go to bed thinking I could've spent my £25.99 more wisely.
It's not until 3 days later that I'm aware of my feet again. I've just arrived in Budapest and I'm hopping in the shower. I look down at my feet and squeal. They're falling apart. The sides are peeling. The toes are all flakey. Even the arch is looking haggard. Once out of the shower it only gets worse. The entire outer layer of heel doesn't seem to be attached, it's like a giant blister without pain. Resorting to socks and Birkenstocks with my summer shorts (god forbid anyone ever sees me like this) it's not until later that I remember the grossness, when I strip down for bed and there's a fresh new heel. A really soft one at that.
I get up the next morning and I've got fresh new toes. The next day, it's new sides of my feet emerge (who even knew they were dry!?) and for the few days that follow, there's more shedding here and there so that honestly, no one single bit has been left untouched. It's lucky I wasn't sentimental about my feet because this product seems to have given me a brand new pair entirely. I've shed like a boa constrictor and come out the other side as soft and supple as a baby. Which, if you refer to the name, is probably the point,
As gross as the 'peeling' week was, this product is a bloody winner. It eliminates overpriced trips to the podiatrist, it's scarily effective (as much emphasis on the 'scary' as the 'effective') and it requires very little effort on my part. Gone are the hours wasted with Boots' stupid electrical skin buffing machine — that damn thing never worked anyway. From now on I'll be using this every year to prep for summer. Only, a little earlier on so I'm not stuck in socks when everyone is flaunting their tootsies on the unexpected scorcher in May.
Follow Alice on Twitter @ALICETATE_
This article originally appeared on The Debrief.