Yes, I do!!! Please send me a selfie to firstname.lastname@example.org, writing “pic” in the subject line. I will use your picture to illustrate just
how beautiful we all are. I want to show that beauty comes in all shapes, sizes, ages, colors, ethnicities…everything!!! Continue reading
For the past three months I have been involved in a play called Penelope, a retelling Continue reading
Could it be that older women are becoming the new faces of beauty? Absolutely. After years of living in a culture where being over 50 meant being invisible, things are changing in a very real way. I, for one, am inspired by this. Continue reading
Can I love fashion and makeup and still be a feminist? This question has plagued me my entire life. Can makeup and fashion be a tool for self-expression and not a means to hide or conform to society? Continue reading
I saw this article in The Gloss the other day titled 7 Items You Should Never Wear After Age 30 Because You Are Old, Dumb And Ugly. The title made me laugh,
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
I grew up in the 70′s and I was obsessed with fashion magazines. Actually, fashion magazines were my crack. I craved them, I needed them, I let them define me. And, like crack, they also nearly destroyed me. My views on beauty were based on these fashion magazines. They told me what was beautiful. They told me how to be skinny, how to get a man, how to have sex and keep skinny, why men were attracted to “dumb women,” how to Continue reading