^Okey dokey, I will try to answer both questions. Taz: I've tried the celluli-choc stuff from Biotherm, and I'm just gonna cut and paste my review from another board:
I got this as a gift-card freebie from Sephora.com, I picked it out because of the word "choc" in it, not believing it would do anything for my cellulite, but hoping it would smell of chocolate! It smells of grapefruit, not chocolate, and though it has made the backs of my thighs as itchy as all hell, frighteningly enough, it seems to be taking my cellulite away. I apply it once a day after showering, for about a month now, and except for the hellacious itchiness, this stuff seems to be working. I have never bought into the whole "smear crap on your body in the vain hopes of ridding yourself of something over 90% of women have," I just wanted to smell like chocolate! Now I'm scratching like a hound, albeit a very sleek-thighed hound, and I'm not sure which is more unattractive: bumpy-***ed me without the uncontrollable urge to scratch myself in public, or reduced-cellulite me, with a furious itch that could be misconstrued as symptomatic of a social disease. Can't wait to actually shell out the $50 next time. That might cure me of this equivocation.
I never bought it again. I have bought alot of chocolate, though. Galler Noir 85% cacao, all the way from Belgium. I can walk to the store and get chocolate from Belgium! I just don't look at my *** so much. Problem solved. No more equivocating.
And Missoni-Heiress: Um, endermologie: I just had the new endermologist in the office where I work do a training session on me. I used to be the endermologist, but I couldn't do it anymore. I've never done well in jobs where I've got to interface with both machines and people simultaneously. Early aptitude tests pointed me to a career involving lots of squatting while tying knots in fishing line between my teeth. Once, that was a calling. Now, we must smile nice in someone's face while flourishing our fingers on a keypad: You want fries with that? Or, that report will be ready for the meeting at 3:00!
We have cellulite. This is serious.
The new endermologist is French and adorable. It's all for the best...the machine is French, and looks like something from the Matrix. Sleek and silvery, it's got all these vents and tubes and protruberences. When I do massage in the same room, I hide the machine behind a shoji screen because it scares the hell out of people who are expecting just the usual human touch. Or it just scares the hell out of me, and I don't like explaining what the machine is to my massage clients: It's for "skin health". It's for cellulite! It's for subcutaneous fear and loathing! It's for women self-conscious about their bumpy ***es and terrified of their inevitable decline and mortality! It will pulverize your flesh! It will weigh your heart like Anubis! You will feel good about this! You will pay for it!
You see why I hide it behind the screen.
So this day I get into a nylon body stocking to finally try the endermologie. The new endermologist rolls the vacuum-squeezer thing over my body-stockinged body. All the lateral bits of my body are okay with the sensation, which is best-likened to be being delicated pinched and hoovered by a scary-***, Matrix-looking sucking machine. Then she suck-o-squeezy vacs more medially, and were I tied down, oh what sublime tickle torture it would be. (I'm sure we could charge even more for that.) Alas, I'm not tied down. I want to kick this cute French girl across the room. (That costs more, too.) I don't do it. I breathe deeper at the tender parts. It actually feels good, but I'd still rather have a massage, because I prefer the human touch, and I've already found the Belgian chocolate cure for everything, anyway.
I can't not recommend endermologie. I performed it on others and have seen it work. It does increase circulation, flush the lymph and interstitial fluid, and break up the collagen fibers which cause the dimpled appearance of cellulite. Have at it! Feel good about yourself! Down to the bone!
Cheers!