I lay back, eyes closed, and for a quiet moment, nothing happens. Then, Vanda’s hands begin to move – not with haste or choreography, but with presence. Her touch is warm, knowing. There’s no rush, no sequence. Only an unfolding. A facial, yes, but not as I’ve ever known it. This is a ritual of care. Of memory. Of something wordless and deeply felt.
Vanda Serrador is not just a facialist; she is a healer. Those who lie beneath her hands often describe the experience as motherly, even spiritual, a kind of intuitive connection that transcends skincare. “What we need is time with each other,” she says, “what we need is love.” That philosophy, woven from her own life’s story, touches everything she does.
A journey shaped by love and loss
Born in Angola and raised in Mallorca, Vanda’s journey into holistic skincare began in the most personal way imaginable. At 17, she suffered an accident on the island that left her with partial facial paralysis. “I became very self-conscious,” she recalls. “I kept knocking on doors, searching for someone who could help, but no one really understood what I was going through, how skin and emotion can be so deeply connected.” It was her mother who first created a healing ritual – massaging Vanda’s skin each evening with homemade oils, telling stories, bringing comfort and connection.
Those early rituals became the foundation of her work. Vanda studied at the London School of Beauty before spending over two decades between London, Bali, Rio, and New York – exploring ancient skin traditions and gathering wisdom. Her treatments today are the culmination of that global experience, guided by intuition and presence. “When we relax,” she says, “we heal.”
A new chapter on the island
Now based in Mallorca, Vanda continues to offer her sought-after treatments both on the island and in London, where she returns regularly to see long-standing clients. Creating an experience unlike any other, her facial treatments are guided not by a routine, but by how she reads your skin, your energy, even your breath. She formulates oils by hand, tailoring each blend with ingredients like carrot seed, jojoba, frankincense or rosehip, writing each client’s name on the bottle – a personal potion of nourishment and care.
Her rituals are deeply sensory. Warm or cool cloths, aromatic sprays, lymphatic massage, textured butters, whispered pauses. It’s no surprise that many leave not only glowing, but softened somehow. More connected to themselves. “I hope they feel seen,” she says. “That they remember how good it feels to take time for yourself.”
She speaks, too, of how the island shapes her practice. The Mallorcan sun, she says, can be both friend and foe to the skin. Her advice is gentle but clear: use physical protection like hats and lightweight scarves, opt for organic or mineral-based sunscreens where possible, and above all, listen to your skin. What does it need, and when?
For Vanda, slow living is not about getting it all right. It’s about pausing long enough to ask: Does this feel good? Her mornings begin with lemon water, meditation, and hot yoga, but she’s just as accepting of the days that don’t go to plan. “It’s not about perfection,” she smiles. “It’s about being kind and coming back to yourself again and again.”
And that is perhaps her greatest gift – to remind us, with every breath, every blend, every touch, that healing begins the moment we make space for it.
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