I blame the Disney princesses. They started it when we were little girls. Their angelic cartoon faces, long flowing hair and optimistic outlooks made us believe anything is possible. They sold us on the magic of falling in love and happily-ever-afters. As a romance novelist, I still believe. However, being at what those of us…
It’s Fashion Week season; New York kicks it off. A week in the Big Apple, and show after show, row after row, model after model. There’s hair, there’s makeup. There are lines wrapped around the corner, eager – but pretending to be bored with it all – faces jostling for a position close enough to…
I used to have a closet full of dresses. Expensive dresses. I justified the investment (doesn’t that sound better than splurge?) because not only were they appropriate professionally, but one dress required little thought in the morning, whereas a two-piece suit also required a blouse option, and three wardrobe components were two too many for…
Mr. Phyllis cannot tell a lie. Yes, really. The man doesn’t lie. For example, when asked how my size 14 butt looks squeezed into size 10 jeans, I went on a one-day green smoothie fast to fit into, his reply: “You might want to change.” Need another one? Me: How does my new lip gloss look?…
As a child, I was one of those (misguided) girls with a smidgen of artistic talent who sketched teal gown after teal gown (it was the 80s, after all). I dreamed of attending fashion school and presenting at runway shows in New York. But then I wanted to be a marine biologist, a biology teacher,…
In my adult life, I’ve been an English as a Second Language Teacher, a school administrator, a Capitol Hill staffer, an environmental advocate, and an energy lobbyist. I’m also a single mother, a wannabe writer and an intermittent blogger with the best of intentions to post more frequently. I’ve toyed over the years with becoming…
My name is Phyllis, and I’m a hard-core beauty junkie. An overflowing cosmetics bag and make-up littered vanity attest to this fact. Yet, most days my face does not. I feed my addiction regularly. There’s nothing I love more than filling department store and online shopping carts with flawless foundations, eye shadow palettes and mascaras…
By Kim Kash I live in Saudi Arabia, where Muslim women cover their hair (and sometimes their whole face except for their eyes) and wear loose-fitting, long garments. I’m an American living on a very large, international compound where women do not have to cover. So I am hardly an expert on Saudi women’s fashion….
By Alison Santighian When we don’t feel well,…OK…when I don’t feel well, I want to hide. I want to bury my head under the covers, close my eyes, and not see a thing. I don’t want to lay eyes on anyone, let alone myself. Whether I’m under the weather physically, or whether I’m under a…