In Paris, Sophie Carbonari Is the Must-See Facialist
In an industry where aging is treated like a dirty word, Sophie Carbonari likes to curse. “I'm 33 and I love talking about my age,” says the Paris-based facialist. “To be honest, if you gave me a million euros, I’d never go back."
That she is young, and that her own complexion is actually luminescent, belies her success to date. Carbonari’s client roster includes such notable names as Rihanna, Naomi Campbell, and Lou Doillon. In January, she opened her own studio in a sunny, serene space on the Palais Royal. Taking a hardline against the toxicity that propels the beauty industry may seem revolutionary, risky even, but Carbonari feels confident in her approach. “Everyone says that they like my glow—they don’t say that they like my anti-aging protocol.”
When we meet at Soho House in Paris’ Pigalle neighborhood, Carbonari’s sought-after hands are cupping a hot herbal tea. Her braids are swept into a high bun and a touch of black liner accentuates her almond eyes. Her anecdotes are frequently pierced by laughter—like when she tells me about the intimacy she cultivates with clients.
“It’s like Vegas—what happens in my treatment room, stays there,” says Carbonari. When we both stop laughing, she continues, “I’m really concerned about [my client’s] state, not just selling her a product. I want to be entirely aware of what she’s going through—if she’s tired, hormonal, or if she just had a miscarriage.” These personal details factor into Carbonari’s holistic approach. “It’s more ‘skin healing’ than just a facial. I think about the skin as a metabolism, not just one part of the body. I try to understand the lifestyle of my client to craft the perfect treatment, which means applying the right product, but also giving the right massage to calm and soothe the skin.”
Carbonari, who was born in Mali and raised by her adoptive parents in the south of France, was sixteen when she began studying beauty and hairdressing at Espace Bourgier, a private school in Nîmes. At 22, she took over an Aix en Provence spa, which ultimately shuttered after a year. “It was mistake because I wasn't ready to manage a business,” recalls Carbonari. Set back but not defeated, Carbonai sold one of the spa’s techy devices and used the funds to move to London. There, she worked at a Japanese wellness center in Marylebone called Chi Yu, which she credits as one of her biggest influences. “I learned different types of massages—Japanese cosmetic, shiatsu. I embraced the rituals,” she says.
True to her generational milieu, Carbonari’s big break came about via DM. After stints in New York and back in the south of France, where at one point, she slept on the floor of the spa that employed her, Carbonari returned to London. Galvanized by the words of internet personality Gary Vee, she began DM’ing women who inspired her, offering treatments gratuit. “I even DM’d Michelle Obama,” she says, followed by a ripple of laughter. One of those inspirational women, model and music producer Caroline de Maigret, replied and accepted. Maigret shared two posts to rave about the treatment, and from there, Carbonari’s status soared. Rather than sending the DMs, her inbox was suddenly flooded with them.
Today, Carbonari has a carefully honed technique. First, she scans the skin using her index fingers. “That way, I know where the circulation [is bad], where you have congestion, where the muscles are blocked.” Next, she goes in and “plays,” as she refers to her trademark massages. She considers it 3D skin work. “I work the muscles, then I work the face or hypodermy, then I work the micro-level or epidermy. For me, it’s a synergy.” Unless she’s collaborating with a brand (like Tata Harper or Augustinus Bader), Carbonari uses her own (soon to be released) product line. She says, “I feel much more comfortable because I know what’s inside and [can adjust] depending on your skin type.”
On a gray morning, I pop into Sophie’s new studio, located on the second floor of a contemporary art gallery called Theoreme. There’s a glass vase overflowing with wild flowers and an atelier window overlooking the hushed Palais Royal. Once on the table, I enter the confessional: I’m drowned in stress, I’ve started smoking (again), and (deep breath) I’m getting divorced. “Don’t worry,” she says, “This time is for you.” Fingers dance across my dehydrated dermis. Micro-currents roll on orange-blossom-scented oils, soothing skin and soul. It's different from any facial I've had.
When I walk out an hour later, I still feel all of my 37 years and in the midst of a divorce—but for the moment, my skin has the glow of a lovestruck twenty something.
*Treatments are 400 euros for 60 minutes and 450 euros for 90 minutes. BOOK
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