Anyway, please do banish that image all over again… because candle massage is a bit of a trend in the wonderful world of wellness. Fortunately, nobody will get the wrong idea about the hot wax thing because massage has such a wholesome, family image… Mmm. Moving on.

Seriously, candle massage is perfectly legit and even starting to appear on the menus of sumptuous properties such as the Grand-Hotel du Cap-Ferrat in Cote d’Azur, 2012′s best spa in Europe in France’s prestigious Prix Villegiature awards. And they don’t just use any old candles, they’re not S&M and they’re certainly not M&S either. These candles are made from beeswax and coconut oil and each is individually handcrafted in a process that takes six hours. When the candle is lit, the wax melts to a perfect 38 degrees Celsius, the ideal temperature to be absorbed by your skin. The only thing that stings is the cost: £145 for an hour.

Better news, you can try this at home, kids. Oskia has the wickedly indulgent Rose de Mai Massage Candle (above and left), which is packed with vitamins, minerals and essential fatty acids to ensure a silky skin and a much-soothed soul – and it is a much more agreeable £34.50. Just remember this is not a hot trend, this is a 38 degree Celsius trend, so strictly speaking it’s tepid.

Here’s a condensed version of my review which appeared recently in The Sunday Times

When Abama opened eight years ago, I remember its press officer waxing lyrical about the Moorish design, the wonderful restaurants, the magnificent rooms — without ever saying where it was. In the end, I had to ask. A pause. “Ah, yes, it’s in Tenerife, but we don’t like to mention that.”

Outside the tacky resorts, however, the island’s volcanic landscape is spectacular. Besides, Abama is well northwest of the concrete jungle, in 400 acres of botanical gardens and golf course. The resort is a terracotta fortress that wanders down to a pretty golden-sand cove. It has 469 rooms and suites, most of which are in the Citadel (which houses many of the 10 dining venues and three bars), as well as rows of villas terraced into the hillside and several cool pools dotted about the estate. Decor is cautiously contemporary; service is always friendly, but inconsistent.

Almost as soon as I’d made it through the doors of the three-storey spa, I felt bionic. That was because my first date was with the electro-interstitial scanner (EIS), a device that measures the flow of electrical current through the fluid between the cells. Sensors were attached to my hands, feet and head, and in minutes 3D images of my body appeared on a computer screen before me, the like of which I hadn’t seen since The Six Million Dollar Man.

Charts and data described the condition of my organs and spinal column. I was yet to have breakfast, and could clearly see my stomach was protesting. My liver activity was slightly increased (that’d be the three glasses of rioja from the night before) and my adrenal medulla, an early indicator of stress, was weakened (that’d be life in general). I was feeling less like the crime-fighting superhero by the minute. A sickly shade of lime indicated muscle tension down my right-hand side.

Abama’s life coach, Daniela Herzberg, left, translated the findings into idiot, then created my unique programme. She prescribed a head, back and shoulder massage for my overloaded brain and keyboard-ache arm. She also recommended some pampering, namely the Pevonia Lumafirm lift and glow facial and body massage, which she promised would lift everything — even bingo wings. It was relaxing and fairly effective, but it was never going to live up to those hyperbolic claims.

The exercise routine did meet expectations. I had a stretching class in the spa garden, with the sun on my face and the birds chirruping. I learnt useful strategies to combat shoulder pain that I could enact at my desk without prompting the health-and-safety officer to fire off a memo. I tried Pilates and the Spinning class. Training can also include hula-hoop sessions, yoga, t’ai chi, qi gong, beach runs and gym work.

Each day finished with a thermal circuit to boost the circulation, passing from scented steam room to sauna, ice room and a cold-water bucket shower, followed by a DIY massage from the jets in the hydrotherapy pool.

After a couple of days, my shoulder had eased and some organ functions were slightly improved. My Q&A with Herzberg was inspiring and her lifestyle advice was reassuringly practical. She gave me nutritional tips and was particularly keen that I take algae supplements to help with brain function. Fingers crossed.

My only serious complaint was the food. While I was grateful that the spa didn’t impose a punishing detox diet, apart from the Japanese dishes at the Michelin-starred Kabuki, it was difficult to make healthy choices at the restaurants. Abama’s chefs seem to regard vegetables like British Rail does an unattended bag – with deep suspicion.

I am reading the Clean & Lean Diet book at the moment by Bodyism‘s James Duigan (that’s him, above, er, no the one on the left). He’s Elle Macpherson’s trainer, so what does he know about turning us into lithe, lovely, lustrous things? Mmm, anyway he extols the virtues of cinnamon, claiming the spice can reduce blood-sugar levels (therefore hunger and cravings) and bad cholesterol. He adds there is no need to buy the expensive stuff (which, of course, I already have) because the cheap stuff is just as good. Ah, throws her head back and laughs. I have started snapping an inch or two of cinnamon stick into a cup of hot water. It tastes sweet, naughty but nice and does stop me craving cake. Try it – you get a gorgeous warm feeling as you sip, otherwise known as smugness.

Duigan, who you may have noticed is barechested in the above photograph, also trains Hugh Grant who says: “James has made me thin and lightly muscled and frankly irresistible.” In the book’s acknowledgement, Duigan thanks Hugh for working out in his underwear and for cleaning the gym equipment naked. Too much information.

I felt stupid but I didn’t feel guilty because of the wondrous “magic window”. Pre-Waitrose, I had been to the gym and done a hard workout and, last year, while in Cornwall on a bootcamp at the gorgeous Tregulland, above, I learned that there is a 90-minute opportunity, post exercise (that’s sweat-inducing proper exercise, Lardon, not chatting to someone with the cross trainer on level three), to eat pretty much anything you fancy because during this period your body does not convert food into fat. I was given a convincing scientific explanation. Can I remember it? Of course not, because I was concentrating on remembering the important bit about eating pretty much anything I fancy and trying not to hyperventilate with excitement. Magic window? More like French doors to a thinner world, I’d say.

Buying jeans is easy. Wait, wait… it’ll make sense soon. As I was saying buying jeans is easy… compared with buying yoga pants. Camel toe, hungry-bottom syndrome, VPLs that even the short sighted could spot at 20 paces, I could go on. That’s why I love America’s coolest fitness clothes, Lululemon Athletica. Its Wunder Under Crops are my saviours. I have only one complaint about them. Until recently, they’ve not been readily available in the UK. A sad fact that’s just been rectified with the opening of a Lululemon showroom at 6 Burnsall Street, London SW3 3ST. Telephone 0207 352 7174.

The launch was typically Lulu low-key so only fitness fashionistas would know to push through the black door (bearing only a discreet Lululemon logo) and find a treasure trove of tops and trackies that make you look at least 10lbs lighter. In fact, the company’s entire approach is effortlessly organic so the store is only open on Fridays and Saturdays from 10am-6pm and on Sundays from 12 noon to 5pm. I urge you to visit. These clothes aren’t cheap (Wunder Unders are £59 to £69) and, worse still, sales aren’t their style, says Aoife Kane, their UK community connector. I nod approvingly because I’m completely spineless while inwardly thinking: “Oh bloody hell, that’s stupid – everyone does sales. I could buy so much more if you just did sales.” But forget about the price tag, the fabrics are so much better quality than anything else, I’m thinking of something that rhymes with Petty Hetty, and the designs are based on feedback so they work for real people (sales assistants encourage you to come out of the changing room and chuck a downward to see how the pants look from every angle… I’ll have 10 pairs of anything that make my heels touch the floor).

Plus, they kick off Sundays with a free yoga class from 11am. First-come, first-served so get your oms out to be one of the first 35 through the door. Instruction is by Lululemon’s brand ambassadors who just happen to be some of London’s hippest yoga teachers including Mercedes Ngoh, above (I LOVE her), Katy Appleton (Geri Halliwell LOVES her) and Sarah Slyne (who’ll be sharing the love this Sunday morning). Just one question: what’s a community connector, do you reckon?

For those of us who don’t fancy tripping over our own fleshy tassels in years to come, it’s wise to wear a sports bra and wiser still to wear the correct sports bra. Enter Sweatshop Trump Street, below, which offers a sports bra fitting service. It’s a fantastic store (classes at its Altitude Centre help you burn calories and lose weight loads quicker, more on them in a future post) but there are others nationwide if you can’t get to the City of London, and my little helper was knowledgable and good fun. Her first piece of advice: your sports bra should never celebrate a birthday. I guess she would say that working in a sports shop and all but as mine is looking forward to a party for its 18th, I was definitely in need of a replacement.

Seems since my last purchase, sports bras have changed somewhat. I was amazed to discover you can buy underwire and even padded sports bras. Padded? Eh? It’s not a night out. Sports bra manufacturers need to remember gyms are like a bar of Cadbury’s chocolate – full of fruits and nuts. No sensible woman is expecting to find love there. Here’s the skinny on how to avoid a boob when buying a bra…

LOW IMPACT: a seamless compression bra will work for anyone taking part in activities such as yoga or pilates; and can even be worn for medium impact if you are a C cup or under

MEDIUM IMPACT: walkers and cyclists with a bigger cup size (smaller cups, see above) should ask the assistant for a sports bra that combines compression and encapsulation, with thick padded shoulder straps for extra support

HIGH IMPACT:  for running, aerobic or gym work, everyone should go for the bra I eventually chose, the Shock Absorber Run Bra. It’s £37 – a lot I know but it does have an infinity eight support system. I have no idea what that means, of course, but it feels like some serious scaffolding and a University of Portsmouth study found that it reduced breast bounce by up to 78%. It is also extremely comfortable. Enough to make me jump with joy, now that I can without fear of floppage.

Although bad hair might become a thing of the past if a little craze working up Stateside develops, as I hope it will, into an everyday occurrence on this side of the pond. Blow bars. Steady, that’s as in blow dry, girls. Rachel Zoe launched the DreamDry chain in New York in February (it took 1,000 appointments in its first week), Gwyneth Paltrow has just opened the Blow Dry Bar in LA and, in London, later this spring, we will welcome The Beehive Bar.

Oh yes, expect swarms to descend because the beehive is definitely back. Cue Adele at the Oscars, cue J-Lo on American Idol, cue Scarlett Johansson… somewhere. Apparently there are various types of beehive depending on your features, height, shape, style and occasion. Who knew? The Beehive Bar says the 2013 reincarnation “sees modified shapes that incorporate sweeping fringes, uplifted French twists and backcombed locks to create a honeycombed bonnet on high-hair”. Anybody got a clue what any of that means?

Wait there’s more. The Bar’s creative director Craig Taylor says: “The key to a great beehive is proportion, it should not be bigger than your face and it should have the right feel of suitability.” Hey, Craig, love your work but stop sniffing the hairspray, mate.  There will be not one but two Beehive Bar at Hari’s Salons in Brompton Road and Kings Road, charges will be from £45 and you can have a free face of slap with every do at no extra cost from the inhouse make-up artists too. I am dying to try this service. I can sense there will bee a buzz about this. Okay I’ll stop with the puns already, I’m annoying myself.

By the way, the hotel has the wonderful Radio Rooftop Bar, above, which is brilliant and going to be even better for those three days of summer we may eventually have… some time next century. Anyway back to Hajni (who recently tended to Mila Kunis, main image, for the London premiere of Oz The Great and Powerful) and her tips for how to love the skin you’re in, especially if you suffer from breakouts.

Look for skincare products that contain vitamin c, glycolic acid and lactic acid

Eat raw carrots, beta-carotene is great for zapping zits

Deep cleanse with enzyme peels rather than exfoliating grains – and, steady girl, you only need to do this once a week

Take zinc, Hajni is convinced this supplement saved her from acne scars

Or simply apply more foundation than they poured into The Shard (also visible from Radio Rooftop).

Can you “spot” which one isn’t from Hajni… see what I did there?

Here is a condensed version of a review that appeared recently in The Sunday Times

Lux Le Morne is tucked away in the southwest corner of Mauritius. The design feels dated, but its ambience is refreshingly fun-loving. Although the bedrooms are in unimaginative dark woods, rattans and creams, and live entertainment dies on stage every evening, there are also cute touches such as old-fashioned red telephone boxes, from which you can make free international calls, and surprises written on messages hidden in bottles around the property — find one and receive a treat, such as a spa treatment or dinner.

The beach is agreeably long and golden, if a little on the skinny side. The low-rise architecture means that, despite having 149 rooms, Lux Le Morne doesn’t feel large or impersonal, and its size means it can support three restaurants: the Kitchen, which offers “authentic island cuisine”, the Beach, which has a decent Mediterranean menu, and Nipa, the best, which specialises in delicious Thai dishes.

Pre-holiday resolutions are wonderful, aren’t they? The heady hiatus between reservation and arrival when you can convince yourself that, while away, you will do yoga every morning, breakfast on fruit, swim 20 lengths, lunch on mung beans (even though you’re not entirely sure what they are), spend an hour learning a new language, have a gym session, eat a dinner of fresh fish and salad, then finish with a chapter of A Brief History of Time before lights out at nine.

If your holiday has ever panned out like that, congratulations, but you’re not normal. For the rest of us: welcome to the new trend for leisure wellness. Lux Resorts has identified a growing band of tourists who are interested in adopting a healthier lifestyle, but who would rather drink their body weight in cod liver oil than spend all week in a bathrobe.

So its Vitalité Experience offers a spa bolt-on to a “proper” holiday. It’s educational rather than curative, aimed at establishing good habits, not achieving short-term results. This translates into some intelligent hand-holding, but definitely no Nurse Ratched-style monitoring of every morsel you eat and drink.

The package includes three 90-minute spa treatments, three fitness sessions and three yoga classes, all tailored to your needs after consultation with the spa team. You can pack everything into three days or spread the package out over a week. There are no inspirational talks or lectures to attend. Instead, I was handed a folder of realistic nutritional advice. I wasn’t told to stop eating meat, for example, but rather to consider choosing venison and rabbit, because the latest research shows that cuts from active wild animals contain healthier fats.

My schedule began with a Body Balance Analysis to assess my flexibility, muscle tone and core strength. Lux Le Morne may have opted for a softly-softly spa concept, but there has been no compromise on quality. The fitness programme was devised by Stephen Price, a former professional cricketer who now puts elite sportspeople through their paces. My tests completed, the instructor drew up a fitness regime for me.

As leisure wellness tourists may not belong to a gym, the exercises relied on using body weight rather than fancy equipment. My trainer’s tip for a pert posterior was to walk a couple of lengths of a room with toes turned out, then toes turned in, then balancing on your heels, finishing with a rather undignified shuffle with your fingers under your toes. They were fun, and come with hand-out notes. (I tried an Extreme workout last week, which nearly killed me.)

Sadly, the yoga wasn’t so impressive. The muslin-draped gazebo made a suitably zen setting, but the postures were too easy and the programme was so slow-paced, it wouldn’t have challenged anyone but a total beginner.

The time spent in the pretty spa was much more successful, with pampering treatments in restful rooms overlooking reflecting pools. The four themes were stress/relaxation, anti-ageing/rejuvenation, cleansing/detoxification and weight loss/toning, but you can mix and match. Therapies and products have been created by the London-based aromatherapist Shirley Page. Her organic oils and the exacting techniques of the staff made for relaxing massages and effective facials. As for the spa team, yes, they asked the same questions all therapists trot out, but they actually listened to my answers and acted on them. Usually, the masseur nods sympathetically, but you can’t help suspecting she’s thinking about what to cook for dinner when you’re recounting the harrowing effects of the in-flight hospitality on your complexion.

The package also includes a cookery class with Lux’s executive chef. He rustled up health-conscious dishes — shrimp salad, stir-fried chicken with chilli, roasted pineapple with basil sorbet — while rattling off answers to my group’s questions. The class was the sort of hands-on I like. I didn’t have to pair up with a fellow student, then pretend not to mind when they chopped ingredients with all the precision of Freddy Krueger. Instead, we got our hands on the food the professional had prepared. This is a proper holiday, after all.