A few weeks ago I had Shawn, the delightful founder of Chatillon Lux in the studio for a headshot session. When I get to know my clients prior to a session I like to ask about what they do, and how the images we shoot will be used. Shawn explained that his company creates luxury fragrance…
Why St. Louis Experiential Gifts?
You know, for once was thinking I was kind of unique, or at least somewhat ahead of the curve. For a few years now I have been slowly divesting myself of my worldly goods. Not all of them, in a monastical fashion, but just the (many, many) extras—things I had collected…
The objectives are:
Own fewer things
Make sure the things I buy are things I love
Spend more money on experiences, less on objects
For the past few years, these have been major life goals of mine. I've been purging clothes and knick-knacks and hoarded books and unused makeup and unworn shoes and…
It's taken me quite a while to write up this review - I had to really process the experience, and figure out what I wanted to say about it. I've been to F.LO.A.T St. Louis and used their isolation tanks twice, and while that doesn't make me an expert, I do have enough information to pass along to a newbie floater.
What's an Isolation Tank?
An isolation tank (formerly called a sensory deprivation tank) is a "lightless, soundproof tank inside which subjects float in salt water at skin temperature".
They are meant to convey a host of benefits, both from the experience itself and from exposure to and absorption of the magnesium in the Epsom salts used in the tanks. I cannot speak to long-term benefits, as I've only been twice.
I'll have a couple of tips and tricks to pass on at the end of the review, but for now follow me on my trip!
The Space
F.LO.A.T is located at 3027 Locust St., (near The Fountain on Locust, for those who prefer landmark-style directions).
Upon walking into the space you're immediately aware that you've entered a completely different kind of atmosphere. It's quiet, warm and the air is salty and humid. Calming music plays, everyone speaks in hushed tones, and there is very little light.
Take your dirty shoes off, you shoe-wearing clod.
You're supposed to take your shoes off upon entering, and I hadn't read those instructions closely enough, so I was reminded by the man at the counter and started off my first visit feeling rather oafish and uncivilized. Oops.