My facial of nightingale droppings

VICTORIA Beckham is responsible for some odd trends, a 23-inch waist, boots without heels and the “pob” hairstyle. However, her latest has also been her strangest; it’s claimed that bird poo is the magic ingredient behind her newly glowing skin.

According to press reports, on a recent trip to Japan she apparently discovered that clear complexions were helped by nightingale droppings and she sourced a New York salon that used the ingredient. It’s said husband David has become a fan, too.

Living in Tokyo I am exposed to some pretty odd beauty fads – weightloss tights, fat-melting soap and mouth exercise equipment to name just a few. So I was curious to discover if two weeks of nightingale droppings would give me Victoria’s A-list complexion.

My source was to be Chidoriya, a Japanese company in the beauty business since 1949 and expert in traditional treatments, including nightingale droppings.

A few days later the package arrives, an event that doesn’t impress my boyfriend. “Won’t you smell bad?” he asks, unhappy at the thought of his girlfriend walking around with droppings on her face. “It will be fine,” I say with more confidence than I feel, thrusting the tub under his nose. “See, it smells OK.”

First impressions allay my fears. The product is a pale grey powder with a faint, musty smell. Reluctant to begin I recall the conversation I had with Chidoriya owner Tomomi Horikiri, a woman with fantastic skin.

“I have used the product for 20 years,” she told me. “It leaves my skin smooth, soft and clear. It isn’t harsh like chemicals and it really works.”

She explained the history of the droppings and how they were first used by Korean royalty 1,000 years ago. In the 10 years Chidoriya has been selling the product demand has soared, especially among Western customers. “People recognise that it works,” Tomomi says.

But aren’t women put off by the fact they are effectively smearing

the product of a nightingale’s bowels on their skin? “We use UV light on the droppings so they are free of bacteria,” explains Tomomi. “Some women are scared at first but then they use it. My customers ring me from Britain to tell me how they love it.”

Buoyed by this conversation I gather my equipment; a teaspoon and a few drops of warm water. As instructed I measure half a teaspoon of the powder into my hand, then sprinkle on the water.

Using my finger to mix it, the powder turns into a gloopy grey sludge which I apply to my moist face and neck. Finally I splash it off using warm water.

Once dry my skin feels smooth, although not radiant just yet. “It is an enzyme like papaya,” Tomomi told me. “It takes off the surface dirt. Little by little it is effective.”

On her advice I use the droppings every other day and in the first week I can definitely feel my skin becoming softer. The mild smell fails to bother me, my boyfriend or my brother.

Keen to exchange experiences with another user I contact Shizuka Bernstein, creator of the Geisha Facial and owner of Shizuka New York Day Spa. She heard about the idea as a child from her mother.

“When I was researching new ingredients for my spa, I remembered her story and thought: ‘I wonder if that really works.’ I got some droppings and was surprised to find they truly do.”

At the end of the experiment my scepticism has vanished. Does my skin feel “reborn” as Tomomi hoped? No, but with a clearer face gazing back from the mirror I am a convert to Japan’s traditional beauty offerings.

I have yet to tell my boyfriend about a second Chidoriya product winging its way to our bathroom but if Posh can convince David to cover his face in droppings, I’ll have my man using adzuki red bean soap in no time.

A tub of nightingale droppings costs £12 plus postage from www.chidoriyaworld.com