A statistically significant number of you have voted by now on what color my hair should be, and champagne blonde has beaten out platinum by a nose. Next time I do the roots I’m going to attempt to knock down the yellow a bit, and I just whacked off a couple of inches to neaten it up, but this is the new look.

Here it’s air dried, and looks younger, I think. But I picked up a nice set of ceramic heat rollers at a yard sale (new in the box) for $2, so can do the 50’s curls when I’m feeling more ambitious, or just want to look like a grownup. And if I want to look like a little dutch girl, it’s still long enough to do pigtails.

Original post by Hillary Johnson

I wrote last week about the benefits of washing one’s face for a prescribed length of time–ie, as long as it takes to sing the alphabet song twice through. Seven days later, I am loving the skincare results… and not loving the alphabet song so much.

So I decided to go in search of a timing device that would do the same thing without the fear and loathing caused by repetitive nursery rhyme stress. Since I wash my face both in the shower and at the sink, I would need a device that was waterproof and had a suction cup for the shower wall, and ideally was cheap enough that I could purchase two.

The solution comes in two parts: For the shower, the Wash & Brush timer for children. It has a thirty second timer, and a two minute timer, and flashes instead of buzzing, but is quite hideous. For the vanity, this triple hourglass, for $9.95. It measures one, three and five minute increments, and is a beautiful enough gadget I wouldn’t mind having in plain sight.

Original post by Hillary Johnson

Seems like I’m the only one disappointed by what France’s first lady wore this week. With one bright exception, it was all dowdy, boring, unflattering, and terribly aging. I would have loved to have seen her break out one or two of her vintage catwalk looks for this trip. What a waste of beauty and allure.

Original post by Jackie Danicki

This story in the New York Times about a children’s class in cosmetic chemisattempt sounds a lot like what they educate at Hogwarts in Potions 101. You can react with a boring and predictable "Eeew, how gross!" or with rapt fascination–seems to me from this story that cosmetics are every bit as magical as we like to think!

We’re always being urged by one cranky, superior pundit or another to get back in touch with our humanity, and to eschew the "superficiality" that pervades our culture–and makeup is often cited as one of the hallmarks of the fatuous and shallow.

I implore to differ. Grinding up symbolically potent, exotic substances and adorning ourselves with them seems to me like a practice straight out of our visceral, shamanistic heritage, an act of animistic faith in the power of our objects and rituals to elevate us to a higher plane. The pursuit of beauty is indeed a spiritual practice.

No further proof of the power of beauty in our lives is needed than a rapid visit to photographer Eric Lafforgue’s portfolio site.

Original post by Hillary Johnson