Posted October 01, 2015
I'm like you: I struggle to get the motivation I need to get myself to the gym. I go for long periods without any dips in workout enthusiasm and then BAM. It hits me. I can't even lift my arm to reach the bottle of Apathy Anti-Bad-Mood Spray resting on the night stand.
Call it "lazy"; call it "depression" - call it whatever you want. I really don't have the body to justify putting off my workouts. Lately, I've been getting energy from taking long walks in the hills around my home. I recently moved to the Denver metro area and the let me tell you - Colorado sunshine is OFF THE CHAIN. It's wonderful.
I put together this little playlist of vintage Broadway songs to keep me moving and I thought I'd share it with you. I recommend you play them in order. Sometimes, I like the film soundtrack better than the cast recordings - so I took that liberty to include theme here.
- "Sound of Music" by Julie Andrews
- "On Broadway" by George Benson
- One" from A Chorus Line.
- "America" from West Side Story.
- "Greased Lightning" from Grease, The Movie soundtrack.
- "Oklahoma!" 1943 recording.
- "Get Me To The Church on Time" from My Fair Lady.
- "We Go Together" from Grease, The Movie soundtrack.
- "There's No Business Like Show Business" with Bruce Yarnell, Rufus Smith and Ethel Merman.
- "Overture/All That Jazz" from Chicago. I like the film version - but it's album only on iTunes, unfortunately. If you don't want to buy the album, try the Bebe Neuwirth version.
- "Fame" by Irene Cara.
- "Be Our Guest" from Beauty and the Beast.
- "Aquarius" from Hair.
Now, obviously, I took some liberties. And I've largely ignored more recent productions. What have I missed? Which show tunes do you think would be a good addition to this Broadway playlist for walking?
Marcus Monson, Lead Makeup Artist for Guerlain.
When people ask me how and why I started this anti-bad-mood spray business, I have to chuckle. If they knew me well, they'd know that my bathroom has a kind of world domination in cosmetic terms. I. have. everything. I've. tried. everything. I know the lead makeup artist for every cosmetic house in this great nation. And I am not lying about that. (My makeup artist of choice is Guerlain's Marcus Monson.) I probably have $18,000 worth of perfume on my shelf. I'm not proud of that, necessarily, I'm just telling it like it is. I put together a visual list of the products I use on Pinterest. This is just a list of the stuff I use every day - not an inventory of everything in my beauty arsenal.
Like many women, perhaps more than most, I believe that cosmetics - liberally applied - will lead to a dramatic life transformation. It's not exactly vanity. More of throw-your-hands-up-well-at-the-very-least-you'll-stumble-through-your-miserable-little-life-looking "put together"-sort-of-thing. A belief in the possibilities being sold across the counter. A solution to every problem. Or, at minimum, an everyday enjoyment of some nicely scented stuff.
My first makeup artist was Gary at Charles Ifergan in Chicago. The gay Carmindy of his time, Gary knew what he was doing and he made me not only look, but feel beautiful. He provided me with a take-home Xerox copy of a face, with all the colors brushed right on. A kind of road map to beauty. Though I don't wear the "face" anymore, I still have all the relevant cosmetics (and the map) in my drawer. I can't bear to throw it away the memory of what beautiful felt like.
The origins of this life approach can be traced back to my youth. By 7th grade, I was spending my entire weekly allowance at Walgreen's on Noxema and nail polish, trying to sneak into the house without my "not even lip gloss until you're in 8th grade" mother hearing the crinkle of the paper bag in my hands.
You know what I'm talking about. That internal, teenage feeling of hideous-ness that has relatively little to do with how you actually look on the outside. Where does that come from? One day, you're happy enough and the next the inner troll just appears - whispering comments in your ear as you cross the lunch room: that boy will never love you; if you just had the right jeans with a Goody comb in your back pocket things might be different.
And, just often enough, hair, makeup and clothing does change life on the inside. Ask any fan of TLC's What Not to Wear. The most dramatic transformations are those we watch happening on the inside - the TV client looks in the mirror and usually, for the first time in a long time, sees their own worth. A person worthy of being taken care of, a body and a spirit that has been given permission. A person that deserves time, care, and respect. Maybe a stronger person doesn't need to wear makeup to feel all of that. But that person wouldn't be me.
Tell me about your experiences with (or without) makeup.
--Heidi Rettig, CEO