Hair, of all things. I’ve never been blessed with a sense of consistency in the beauty department. As a child, my own grandmother often failed to identify me in family photos due to a near-constant rotation of (admittedly terrible) hair choices: the leave-in Perm, the impromptu bangs, the great Sun-In overdose of 1994.
For the record, I’m not of the school of thought that life is in need of hacking. It is what it is – some days more bonkers than others – moment after moment knocking around together to create some semblance of order (or lack thereof). Life is life is life, and I’ve yet to witness
I laughed at a comment on this post (don’t forget to swipe the arrow): “And now I want to know what kind of makeup you use.” It wasn’t my intent, of course, to make the case for a full face. I’m firmly planted in the “You Do You” category here. We are inherently beautiful, each
For all the areas of my life I claim minimalism (or, at least, a graceful version of the sort), my beauty drawer cannot accurately be included. What began as a teenager’s dopp kit carrying little more than waterproof mascara and acne concealer has, over the years, morphed into a full-blown arsenal for any skin “need”
I won’t even pretend that this tiny shift holds any real purpose other than a quick stroll through vanity park, and yet, a small step it is… My friend Beverly boasts the most plump, hydrated lips around. I realize that’s an odd thing to publicly laud, and yet, if you’d see her, you’d ask the
So, hair. Can I just say something? I love you guys. You let me chat about politics one day, tension on another, and then – haiiiiiiir. I mean, we’re all over the place in these parts, and do you yet have a glimpse into what it’s like to be Ken? We’re doing a good job
Why yes, I do happen to be super reliant on the 5 minute pick-me-up method. When my mood starts blending into the sky – bluesy, gray, blah – I reach for the Official Winter Blues Cure jar. But I’m always cheating, putting back a few slips of paper (jumping jacks – feeling lazy! build a
The greatest thing about living in the Midwest is the affordable travel factor. Save some nickels on a fixer-upper and – boom – you’ve got yourself a cheap home base where you can travel the world, stamp your passport, road trip to Anywhere, then mosey on back home to wash your whites/visit your mother/downward dog