Step inside the UK's first gentleman's pedicure room, Aldwyn & Sons

By Oli Ross | 04 Mar 2019 | Style, Indulge

Tempus puts its best foot forward to review the latest grooming trend

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* Nestled at the back of a barbers just off Charlotte Street is Aldwyn and Sons, the UK's first gentleman's pedicure room, and a man whose knowledge of our dainty little feet dwarfs anything before seen

Nestled at the back of a barbers just off Charlotte Street is Aldwyn and Sons, the UK's first gentleman's pedicure room, and a man whose knowledge of our dainty little feet dwarfs anything before seen. Founded by Aldwyn Boscawen, this is a pedicurist just for men, catering to what he calls a severe lack of care in the market for men’s flippers, and I for one can see his point – this is, after all, my first ever pedi.

Entering the treatment room, you get a whiff of the quintessential English boot room, with deep velvety greens, mahogany panelling and artwork that wouldn’t look out of place in Sean Connery’s library. Upon being greeted and seated by Boscawen himself, you are treated to a choice of liquor which relaxes you immediately – especially if, like me, you don’t particularly like any poor soul having to near your battered and bruised hooves. But when this man pops them into soak and makes you feel as relaxed as one can feel with ones trotters being manhandled.

What follows was nothing but a dreamy array of treatments to sculpt, shape and soothe your feet. Starting with a warm foot bath, your tootsies feel like they have gone to heaven, and upon release from this bath Boscawen gets to work on preening, clipping and shaping your nails. >>

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* Aldwyn & Sons introduced the UK's first gentleman's pedicure, which includes a luxurious dry scrub – remarkably ticklish for those of us not man enough to resist giggling

My feet are admittedly, thanks to the rugby years, a mangled mess with an air of Frodo Baggins to them, but just a few minutes in they start to look like they could pass for acceptable at Ocean Beach.

From here, a dry scrub is applied – remarkably ticklish for those of us not man enough to resist giggling – to remove layer upon layer of dead skin from your overused and undernourished claws. Any excess detritus is brushed away and what is left could be almost be mistaken for Darcey Bussell's wondrous plates of meat, sparkling in the evening hues.

From start to end, this experience feels like utter luxury in an environment that relaxes even the footcare-sceptics among us, and for some days after you feel like you are walking on a cloud. Highly recommended to the modern metrosexual, this experience is well worth a punt.

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