I’m on Ozempic, the “miracle” drug designed for type-2 diabetes and controversially embraced by people seeking dramatic and near-immediate weight loss. It works by mimicking the action of a naturally occurring hormone, GLP-1 (glucagon-like peptide 1), to delay the digestion process, and thereby manage hunger.

I’ve lost enough weight but I’m afraid of stopping

I don’t have diabetes, but I do have high cholesterol and arthritis. Ozempic can be helpful in managing both of these conditions but, for me, this is – if you will forgive the food analogy – just the icing on the cake. I have long struggled with my weight. (Obesity runs through my family, and I carry five to six kilos more than I should for my age and build.) More so than ever since I hit the menopause in my late 40s. I’ve spent long, tedious years thinking, talking about and denying myself food – or overeating and feeling guilty. Despite all the talk about body positivity (hard to embrace for someone of my age, 60), my relationship with my weight and food has never been an easy one. 

But I only started to think about using it myself after running into my supremely sensible gynaecologist Claire Mellon, who had lost a lot of weight and looked fantastic. An Ozempic enthusiast, she thought it was very beneficial for women who struggled with menopausal weight gain and described how positive the experience had been for their self-esteem. 

I’ve been nervous about writing about Ozempic. Although semaglutide (the medical name of the drug itself) has just been approved by the NHS for weight loss, I’m worried about other people’s judgement – for wanting to be slim in an era of body positivity, for it being seen as lack of discipline and a “quick fix” that won’t work long-term. Then there’s the fact that the makers of the drug have been suspended from an industry association for being in breach of its code of practice. Though I am being monitored by my doctor via regular blood tests, I also worry about whether there will be any nasty surprises as to the long-term effects. But the truth is, I feel the best I have in years, and have more confidence. My GP told me that this is a holistic journey and that I needed to put the work in with exercise and a healthy diet, and not just count on the drug. I have been. 

My hope is that I will exchange Ozempic for more evolved, relaxed, less punishing eating habits. I hope to maintain this healthier relationship with food and with my body. Ozempic may not be a long-term solution, but it has made me understand that it is possible to have a healthy attitude to eating. And that must be worth it. Right?

This story originally appeared on: Financial Times - Author:Fiona Golfar

Attention to detail is a hallmark of the 45-room Heckfield, and the Bothy does not disappoint. It is located in the hotel’s elegant grounds, which were designed in the late 19th century by the horticulturist William Wildsmith (and after whom the hotel’s botanical skincare line is named).

The space was originally the head gardener’s cottage, accessed through a garden planted with wisteria, lavender and English roses. Shelves bear all cuttings of the plants and herbs used in the treatments, and a soothing aroma of sage, camomile, peppermint and palmarosa seems to emanate from the walls. Inside, one is greeted by Reka Seres, the bothy director, and offered a shot of apple cider, turmeric and ginger. Patrons are also divested of their phones. “No need for distractions,” says Seres in her soft, Hungarian-accented voice.

I am gently thrashed with linden branches

Let’s be clear: if it’s machine-led facial treatments, mani-pedis or an eyelash tint you’re looking for, you won’t find them here. The Bothy is about wellbeing, slowing down, feeling your best in mind and body. In the gym, the floors are wood-sprung, the weights and rowing machine have wood cladding, and the stunning 18m pool – or as they call it, “the waters” – is lined with some 30,000 handmade ceramic tiles. There is a large skylight, and retractable Crittall windows offer views over the verdant landscape. A plant-based menu designed by Heckfield’s culinary director, Skye Gyngell, can be enjoyed in the sun room next to the pool.

I begin with a ritual in the sauna, which overlooks an ancient oak surrounded by wildflowers. Seres infuses the hot stones with birch eucalyptus and tea-tree aromatherapy oils, and the session is completed with the outdoor “bucket” shower. I am then gently (and quite pleasantly) thrashed with soaked linden branches – harvested on midsummer’s night and dried. This removes dead skin cells, stimulates blood circulation, encourages relaxation, can alleviate headaches, and is considered a powerful cleanser. I end with a second bucket shower and a cool-down in the relaxation room.

I also try the Wildsmith Time massage with Manos Dimoudis, who has spent much of his career working in Aman hotels. He begins with kinesiology – to “reveal” my body’s requirements – and the treatment incorporates craniosacral holds, abdominal massage and foot-reflex therapy, plus a deep-tissue massage using Wildsmith Purity oils. I float out. The Radical Botany Facial, using the Wildsmith products, leaves my skin looking like I have been on holiday for two weeks. I am used to technology in my facials, so it makes for a nice change to be lulled into a mildly comatose state with a massage focused on myofascial release, acupressure and breathwork.

In keeping with its holistic principles, the Bothy also offers a menu of “master practitioners” who come in weekly to do further requests. For example, you can have a naturopathy session with Ashmina Manoldis, or be worked on by osteopath Benjamin Pluke.

The level of design and detail throughout is exceptional, from the fluted glass doors in the women’s changing rooms (where even the Dyson hairdryer has its own specially designed hook), to the spacious treatment rooms – there are six, of which two are doubles, each with its own steam shower. The insanely comfortable Lemi treatment beds have been chosen for their therapeutic properties (a soft bed, I am told, is no good for anyone).

This story originally appeared on: Financial Times - Author:Fiona Golfar

Despite the fact that 50 per cent of women are thought to experience hair loss on at least one occasion in their lifetime, treatments for thinning hair have historically focused on men. This has begun to change, as conversation about hormonal shifts in puberty and during the menopause have broadened our understanding of the condition, and with it a rise in the treatment options available to women. Among the key players are a number of biotech companies: We Are Paradoxx is heralded for its Growth Advanced Scalp Serum – which the results of an independent user trial suggest can improve thickness by as much as 75 per cent and lead to the growth of 47 per cent more new hairs – while clean science brand The Nue Co has launched the Supa_Thick Topical Scalp Supplement. The latter claims to increase hair health by balancing the scalp’s microbiome.

So much of my identity is connected to my hair. When I noticed it was falling out I was devastated”

The causes of hair loss are as varied as the treatment options. It could be female pattern hair loss, very often owing to genetics; hormonal changes that occur pre- or post-pregnancy; or skin conditions such as psoriasis. Styling choices can also be a factor: Dr Sharon Wong, a dermatologist who specialises in hair loss, formerly ran a practice in Hackney and saw a huge amount of traction alopecia (caused by heat, braids, weaves, chemicals and pulling at the hair root) in her Afro-Caribbean clients. If stopped early enough, she says, traction alopecia can be reversed, but in more advanced cases it might be helped by anti-inflammatories and topical medicines. 

Other developments in hair loss range from the medical procedures to non-invasive “tweakments”, the latest of which – autologous micrografting technology (AMT) – is now available at Ouronyx. The 45-minute treatment involves taking small skin grafts from the hairline, extracting the follicles’ stem cells and injecting them back into the scalp where the hair is thinning. AMT (£2,850 per session) can’t stimulate growth where there isn’t any, but it can thicken hair by up to 40 per cent. Ouronyx recommends a top-up treatment every 18 months.

Even with the online treatments out there, results can be hugely varied. “It’s an incredibly emotive subject,” says Wong, who believes that the psychological impact of female hair loss is grossly underestimated. When only surgical intervention is able to restore the hair, Wong sends her clients to Dr Greg Williams at London’s Farjo Hair Institute, who offers transplants to men and women. “The marketing for hair loss is much more aimed at men,” says Wong. “But a good hair transplant can be just as effective for women.”

This story originally appeared on: Financial Times - Author:Fiona Golfar