Eleanor Glaze was my father’s partner for over 20 years and, for all intents and purposes, my stepmother. On October 14th of this year, Eleanor passed away. We are all trying to deal with the loss and come to terms with it. My way is to honor her and share what Eleanor was to me. Continue reading
What does the word beauty mean to you? If you were asked, “What is beauty?” what would your answer be? Would you give an example of a beautiful woman, Continue reading
With the sole project prompt of making the invisible visible, or bringing attention to something that rarely gets attention, my mind immediately flitted to the insidious pressure on girls and their appearances. Continue reading
I recently had the chance to hang out with Holly Fulger and friends (and fellow Speaking of Beauty contributing writers) in Holly’s home in L.A. Don’t freak out if you happen to be aware of The Cali Curse and the Me Being Banned from Ever Stepping Foot NEAR the State of California thing.
At least, not yet. I may eventually need to have a shaman clear me for seeing Holly in person, but right now Continue reading
Watch what Tara Windley and I did a few weeks ago, in our “Beauty Mobile,” as we went around to our friends, having them pick a word that best describes them. Express yourselves, ladies!!!!
In my last post, I wrote about the time two boys in my 5th grade class, Billy and Matt, told me that I was pretty. It was the first time I’d been called pretty by someone other than my mother, and I was pretty darn excited about it.
My excitement, however, was short-lived. Because less than a year later, something excruciating happened:
Sixth Grade. Continue reading
My mother hated her kinky, fuzzy Afro-Jew hair. The second of her four children, I inherited her slender frame, her father’s Mongol cheekbones, her memory for minutiae – and her kinky, fuzzy Afro-Jew hair. Continue reading
My mother was Polish. Her mother had come to this country as a child and landed in Lorain, Ohio – a suburb of Cleveland. For as long as I can remember my mom would pack up me, my sister and my brother and we would go visit my grandma. Spending time at grandma’s consisted of a lot of sitting around the kitchen table hanging out with my mom and her trio of brothers (think “The Deer Hunter”). You get the idea. Continue reading