THIS ULTIMATE TIMEOUT FAR MORE THAN SKIN DEEP.

Byline: Lisa W. Foderaro The New York Times

In a small white room, a steam jet coaxes beads of sweat from Susan Ciambrone's face as a skin-care specialist applies moisturizer with the gentle, rapid movements of a harpist.

In another room down the hall, Ciambrone's friend, Linda Tornincaso, lies still as a stout woman in a white coat dabs hot wax on her face before yanking it off.

Both women, former neighbors on Long Island, are having a ball. They have been looking forward to this day for months, their fourth annual beauty blowout at Elizabeth Arden's fabled Red Door Salon on Fifth Avenue.

``We work hard and we're entitled to a treat,'' Ciambrone explained afterward in the salon's cafe, where she poked at a Caesar salad. ``It's good to pamper yourself once a year.''Welcome to the working woman's idea of the ultimate timeout.

Men may have their camping trips. But for female bonding, devotees say that nothing beats that bastion of femininity beyond the bright red door at the Elizabeth Arden Salon. Many women make an annual ritual of it, coming from out of town and from states as far away as North Carolina.

Yes, this is the decade that produced ``The Beauty Myth'' (1991, William Morrow), Naomi Wolf's treatise about women's enslavement to impossible standards of beauty in American culture. But to hear these women tell it, an Arden outing isn't so much a quest for beauty as it is a deserved indulgence.

Indulgence, indeed. One of the more popular beauty packages, as they are called, is the ``Miracle Morning,'' a $270 five-hour sybaritic journey involving six sets of hands working every body part, from hair roots to toenails.

Lolling about on a recent Saturday in the white waffle-weave robes and coral thongs that constitute the Arden uniform were the Hughes women: three sisters, two sisters-in-law and a gentle-faced matriarch.

They had traveled from New Jersey, Maryland and Virginia for what they all insisted was the first ``Women's Beautification Day.'' They even printed invitations on paper embossed with a gold grape bunch listing the attendees.

A couple of times a year the Hughes men have their ``Hairy Man's'' weekend, either fishing or camping, when they treat themselves by not shaving. The salon is its female counterbalance.

``This is kind of like a girls' weekend out,'' said Nicole Hughes, a 35-year-old sales specialist for Salomon Brothers in New York.

Elizabeth Arden is the most famous but certainly not the only salon to attract women on social outings. Others include the Georgette Klinger Salon, the Frederic Fekkai Beauty Center at Bergdorf Goodman and the Peninsula Spa.

Practically all of Elizabeth Arden's weekend business consists of women who arrive in pairs or groups. The atmosphere is so social, in fact, that some women, relaxed and glowing after a massage, openly pined for something to make it a true party.

``Don't you think they should have champagne or wine?'' Ciambrone asked during lunch.

In a way, relating over lip liners and nail wraps, seaweed masks and scalp massages makes total sense. Beauty is a language many women have spoken together since childhood, even those who came of age during the women's movement.

``I remember doing my mother's hair and giving her facials and painting her nails,'' said Joanne Slane, 26, a hotel manager who was spending the day at Arden with her mother and sister. ``It's something the three of us have always shared.''

But women who juggle careers and families often have little time to devote to continual bodily upkeep - and little interest. One marathon day of beauty can linger, psychologically at least, for months. Until last year, for instance, Slane's mother, Joanne Timmel, a teacher in Westchester County, N.Y., had never had a professional manicure, pedicure, facial or massage.

``I do very little for myself, and I'm obsessed with the school work,'' Timmel said. ``We've been looking forward to this for months. It's going to cost almost $200 each, but it's well worth it.''

Regular customers have less romantic views, seeing the salon as a relaxing but at times annoying necessity of corporate life. Thea Winarsky, a 29-year-old lawyer, and Karen Newman, a 26-year-old senior financial analyst, both of New York, booked appointments together for a manicure and pedicure.

``It's an added stress when you're busy working to have to come and do this, but you do,'' Winarsky said. ``You really have to look polished and finished; otherwise people at work will wonder if there's something not quite under control in your life.''

But any such pressures were far from the minds of two friends from Wilmington, Del., both doctors, who were rewarding their daughters for getting into college.

``This is just a fun and relaxing day,'' said Helen Page Ting, 48, a general internist whose daughter, Meg, 17, is headed to Williams College in the fall. ``If we end up more beautiful, well, that's a plus.''