An aesthetic clinic sheds the austere sterility of medical facilities for something a little more artistic.

Text by Michelle Tan
Photography by Carlo Lavatori

Given today’s preoccupation and obsession with beauty, one can go to great lengths in the compulsive pursuit of a physical perfection. “Nip” and “tuck” have now become the new lingo for the narcissist who can afford it. In this day and age, it seems that the road to physical beauty is a convenient one, and yet, it is one marked by incisions, stitches and yes, blood. And therein lays the irony of it all – the means to an end of perfect beauty is an intrinsically grotesque one. Still, the notion of surgery itself has been masked by a mien of luxury, exemplified by aesthetic clinics such as Skin.

Situated in the historic Borgo San Jacopo district in central Florence, between the Ponte Vecchio and Santa Trinita bridges, Skin finds its place on the ground floor of a medieval palazzo. Engaged by Dr. Jorgos Foukis, an eminent cosmetic surgeon and owner of Skin, Hong Kong-based designers Michael Young and his wife, an Icelandic graphic artist Katrin Olina have created a clinic that beguiles and woos with smooth artistry. Using the existing medieval construct as a base for their design, the pair has woven in an aesthetic that is wholly new and refreshing, almost as if using the interior of the clinic as a metaphor for the whole notion behind cosmetic surgery.

Skin takes on a rather unorthodox perspective towards clinical spaces, steering away from the traditional sterile, sanitised interiors of clinics as most know them to be. Weaving the present into the past, there was no doubt that Young would preserve the existing vestibule. The raw tactile quality of a brick wall and the old-world charm of an iron gate with its quatrefoil patterns define the waiting area. On the other hand, the aged grandeur of elements from the past has been squarely juxtaposed against an ultramodern canvas of floral graphics by Olina that clad the floor from the entrance into the clinic proper.

For the most part, Skin packages a quintessentially feminine appeal with an ultramodern style that is encapsulated by the aforementioned floral graphics. Imagery, featuring oversized flowers in a pastel palette of pink, green and nude tones, flaunts soft edges on the digitally printed plastic film, its artistry and poetic provocation carrying one into a flight of fantasy. This lyrical expression is compounded by pentagon incisions spanning backlit Corian walls. Presenting a metaphor of sorts, a mirrored wall panders to a patient’s self-scrutiny before the doctor’s appointment. At this threshold, a white pristine passageway bisects the waiting area from the treatment section, breathing levity with its vaulted ceilings while giving a subtle nod to the fresh chapter in one’s life when the dressing comes undone.

Skin inspires a new rhetoric for clinic interiors – one that departs from the grim, and scarily sanitised environs of medical facilities. Rather, it astutely plays up the magic of cosmetic surgery. Like a work of art, it intrigues, mesmerises and then takes you in wholly on a journey towards a fairytale ending of eternal youth and beauty.