Happy Memorial Day!
Summer is upon us, which means it's time to talk summer hair.
Your hair is kind of a big deal. Cut and color can mean everything, and a good cut and color can change everything - your mood, level of confidence, outlook on life... the list goes on. (So can a bad one, in a bad way, so let's focus on the positive.)
The other thing that matters, like, a lot? The experience of having your hair cut and colored (and the dent that it makes in your wallet).
I was a loyal client of my friend and stylist Carol Clock in Kansas City for YEARS. She saw me at 14 when I wanted the Joey Potter haircut (yes, a simple, blunt cut, and yes, I brought a photo of Katie Holmes that I'd ripped out of Seventeen Magazine just to be crystal clear). She saw me through high school and college when I wanted Jennifer Aniston hair. And she saw me at 23 when I wanted Reese Witherspoon bangs and highlights (obviously, yes, I brought a picture - this time ripped out from Elle). Carol owns Moxie Studio in Kansas City, and if you live there, you should go see her immediately because she will make you very happy. Not only will the experience be super fun, but your hair will look great.
Now that I live in New York and am unable to get back to Kansas City every two to three months (as would be required to keep my naturally blonde hair looking, you know, natural), I have had to find a stylist here. Let me tell you, it has been stressful - but it has also been a super great learning experience! I am a hair stylist monogamist, but I've had to play the field for, like, years here, and it's terribly uncomfortable. Since moving to New York eight years ago, I've been a la recherche de the perfect stylist and have been to a distressing number of places (please don't judge): starting with Frederic Fekkai Soho (an awesome, horrendously hip, money hemorrhaging experience), I followed that colorist (Alex Safdari, who is phenomenal) to Pierre Michel (a much less pleasant, less cool and even more expensive experience), jumped ship to a mix of Mark Garrison (a rough go), Laicale (lovely and super hip, but my guy Jesse left so I too panicked and left), Vidal Sassoon (a standard upscale salon experience), John Barrett (ditto but with a smattering of celeb), and the Upper West Side Aveda (a truly horrendous color experience), finally settling on Frederic Fekkai Uptown for a year where I saw Brooklyn (who lived in Brooklyn) for color and the amazing Roz (who's married to my original colorist Alex - go figure!) for cut before coming to terms with the fact that I simply couldn't afford to be a Fekkai blonde. At that point, I followed a Gilt deal to Bumble and Bumble (where I attempted to do color at Bumble and maintain cuts with Roz at Fekkai because I loved her, but eventually I gave up), to then Oscar Blandi, Fekkai Soho once again and John Freida (a pleasant, hip experience, but too far for me to travel and too expensive post-Gilt deal). One of the hard things about finding the right salon is finding both a colorist and a stylist that are at the same place at of equally awesome caliber and enjoyable to talk to.
This brings us to last summer, when I found myself in a boot/crutches and unable to get around town. And so I made a switch to a sweet little local salon near my apartment... and I finally found The One. (That was long-winded and I probably could have just jumped right to this part, but no great love story -- that doesn't leave you sobbing -- starts at the moment that you fall in love, does it?)
Enter Alice Hair Care. It had amazing reviews on NYMag, promising uptown hair at downtown prices, and it did not disappoint. I made an appointment with Alice -- who gloriously does both cut and color and also charges the same as all of her stylists, which is fabulous -- and hobbled my way over to 70th & 2nd Ave. The salon is tucked behind some pretty horrendous temporary buildings that have been erected to support the Second Avenue subway construction, so you could actually walk past the salon without noticing it. As residents of the Far East Side, Matt and I make an effort to give business to Second Avenue stores when possible (e.g. , dry cleaning, and even then our sweet little dry cleaners just went out of business) so this felt like a perfect match!
You walk in the salon and are greeted by friendliness all around. Alice and a number of her staff are Irish, and I could just listen to them talk for hours. They are all so lovely. Alice sat down with me and went through my "Hair" board on Pinterest. I explained that I wanted blonde -- but not too blonde, more like bronde (I find that term both hilarious and grating) -- and a cut that could easily air dry because 1) I am eternally lazy and 2) I couldn't stand for very long periods of time to blow my hair dry. She listed, said, "I totally get it," then mixed up my hair concoction, which involved both highlights and lowlights and included -- in her words -- a "signature" color! I would get to have my very own signature color? Why, yes please, that sounds lovely! Fast forward a few hours, and I was released into the world with exactly the hair I'd requested. I was so happy. Even with my boot on, I had a skip to my step. And the rest is history. I've been back maybe six times now, and I am now delighted to be a "regular." People remember me, they remember my foot plight, they are all just so nice and wonderful, and I look forward to going every time.
Why do I bring this up now? Because Alice just brought me back to life last Friday, and I am once again reminded of how important a cut and color -- and the experience of having that cut and color -- are. What's even better? I can get a cut and color for something like $250 plus tip, and at the bigger, "fancy" salons, that wouldn't even cover color! She also gives 10% off for first timers and during ur birthday month (she loves birthdays)! We went blonder this time -- for summer and for my sanity -- and when Alice said this would require more upkeep -- "try to come back in six weeks" -- I didn't cringe with (much) pain. Full disclosure: Alice saw me cringe, said, "Don't worry, we'll just do it every six weeks for the next one or two and then I'll bring you back to something a little darker and more manageable for the fall" (all said in that charming Irish accent). "Ok Alice! Six weeks it is." I already can't wait to go back.
Alice Hair Care
1324 Second Ave., New York, NY, 10021
at 70th St.
Happy hair care!
Happy Hump Day!
I've been in an inexplicably cheerful mood this week. I think it's the hint of spring that is in the air. It's subtle -- I mean, really, you have to try to find it -- but it's there.
I've recently realized how dreadfully appreciative I am of the little things. As you know, I've had quite a year in the injury department, and on Monday I finally decided to ditch my cane and walk about town with two free hands. Don't get me wrong, the cane was great -- really, it was -- but it was time to say goodbye. I'd done a few test runs in my neighborhood over the weekend and felt satisfied with the result, and so, on Monday morning, as I rushed out the door (late, as always) to catch my far East Side van service, I took a look at my cane and, after a moment of silence and contemplation, decided to let it go. (RIP, dear cane.)
Once downtown, released by my van service on Water Street, I walked the remaining few blocks to my office, taking great pleasure in my newfound freedom and ability to swing my arms about as I walked -- not hobbled, but walked! The sheer joy! And, as I turned from Wall Street to Pine Street to William Street and passed under scaffolding and observed some business travelers milling about the strange hotel where I took GMAT classes just a few years ago, a Strokes song came on my Spotify playlist. And just then, at that moment, I was hit with a gust of brisk air and a wave of those business travelers' cigarette smoke that, together with all those other factors, brought me immediately back to my commute to school when I lived in Paris ten years ago. Not just the romantic Jardin des Tuilleries Paris, but the gritty, oft overlooked, outer edges of Paris that tourists rarely see. And suddenly I was there with my roommate Rebecca on our school-bound half mile trudge to the Gambetta metro stop from our host family's apartment in the faraway 20th Arrondissement (where we were known as "les Americaines" in the internet café and local bar and tabac because we were, in fact, the only Americans in the neighborhood), both of us shuffling in our black Converse, listening to the Strokes on our first generation iPods, complaining about our host mother's odd breakfast rituals (mostly to justify our daily stop at Paul for a Viennoise), and aggressively smoking Gauloise Bleues (when in Paris, do as the French do) in the brisk morning air that was always a little too damp and cold for our liking (because neither one of us had bothered to look up the weather before packing for "spring" in Paris). Little did I know that I would later cherish those long, cold walks so very much and that, on certain spring mornings in New York, with just the right mix of smoke and chill and damp air mixed together, I would remember those Paris days as if they were happening all over again.
On any other morning, I would probably curse the cigarette smoke or the drizzling rain and my failure to remember an umbrella or that it was April and I was still wearing a winter coat, but on Monday morning, the morning when I removed my cane-shaped shackles and strode through the streets like every other hurried person trying to get him- or herself to work in one piece, I was struck with that delightful notion of how great life is, how seemingly mundane things can actually be so special, and how the passage of time is at once so fleeting and so glacial.
As I came to from this fabulous memory and moment, I glanced up and saw that I was entering one of my favorite spaces downtown -- Chase Plaza -- which was closed for years (first for the Occupy Wall Street demonstrations and then for construction). Why is this a favorite space? Who knows. For one, it's a nice shortcut. For another, it has interesting art, like Isamu Noguchi's Sunken Garden and a sculpture by Jean Dubuffet (pictured above). And for another, I have always had a thing for carved-out public space. Whenever I cross into and through Chase Plaza (which I believe has now been renamed Rockefeller Plaza?), I appreciate how the space is both enduring (as it was thankfully landmarked in 2008) and incredibly temporal. It is not a destination, but a passageway. I think of the people who have traversed the space in the past, those that do now and those that will in the future, and I am moved by the massiveness of the space, the emptiness that immediately surrounds me (because it's never terribly crowded -- a novelty in this city), the sky overhead and the imposing buildings that loom all around just far enough away to let me breath a cleansing sigh as I either begin or end my work day. It is the kind of space that you don't realize you appreciate so very much until you no longer have access to it, and when you are once again able to traverse the space and be in it and feel that simultaneous sensation of heaviness and lightness, you look up at the sky, drizzle and all, you take in a deep, clean breath of chilly April air, and you say thank you for all things great and small.
Never did I think I would be writing about the beauty of a morning commute, but there is a first for everything. There can be such beauty in the mundane. And isn't that what life is all about? After all, it's often the little things that can have the biggest impact on us over time, that quietly stay with us as happy reminders of what once was and still remains somewhere deep within, that make life and the world around us so incredibly wonderful.
Happy commuting, happy remembering and happy appreciating the little things!
I have been feeling a not-so-healthy dose of stress recently. Maybe it's all the snow. And my foot - while healing - is still, you know, une problème. I was talking to my mom about it yesterday, and she said, "Kate, do what you tell me to do: go find your happy." And she was so right.
I decided to take a quick gander at my Pinterest boards and see if anything might get me going. My "Home Inspiration" board is my most "free-wheeling" board, if you will, and contains all sorts of things that inspire me, many of which are not at all home-related, but which, in my mind, inspire the way a home might be decorated. I found a collection of pins that all fell within the same sort of color family - a hot pink meets coral meets peach meets sunset - and suddenly inspiration hit.
There is a perfect color of orangy-pink that only a truly perfect sunset can produce, and that has long been my favorite color. When I was a child, my parents decided to call the color "Kate Hufft Pink" (Hufft is my maiden name) because I'd get so darn excited about really good sunsets (still do), and now, in my adult life, Matt has, in jest, decided to call it "KHP" (Kate Hufft Pink) and mocks me mercilessly whenever we see a sunset (the running joke of our vacations now is that we always end up going to places that supposedly have incredible sunsets -- Bali, California, etc. -- and then never see a sunset because of clouds or fog). I used to hate when he joked about KHP, but I've since learned to embrace it and allow the experience to further hone what I do believe to be the most perfect color on earth.
"Is that KHP?" (said in the Zooey Deschanel "Is that rain?" voice from the 2012 Apple iPhone commercial)
"There's not enough orange."
"Yes. It's not even close. Not every sunset is KHP."
"It's too pale. The color isn't saturated enough."
"I don't know why, ask a scientist. And that purply-blue color is gross."
"Because it is."
"Don't you think it's gross? It's murky and sad without a deep orange to offset it. I want it to be vibrant and happy."
"[Sigh.] I don't know, Matt. I just do."
He asks "why" like a 5-year-old (purposefully), and I allow it to happen until I hit the end of my ability to critique the not-quite-right sunset. Often it's not the sunset that makes the color. It's the sunset juxtaposed against whatever else is going on. It's the textures, the patterns, the feeling of being outdoors in the warmth of fresh air. It's the sensation of spring and summer. Of a day ending and an evening just beginning. It's the need for darkness and shadows to be present to bring out the vibrancy of the light but saturated bright, pink-y orange. It's that bright pink-y orange. Really, it's that deep, reddish orange. But more than that, it's realizing that, when we're not able to chase down the perfect sunset (or even have a chance to see one), we can help create our own -- through imagination, inspiration, and the beauty of the world that surrounds us.
And that is what inspired me for today's post. It's not just sunsets that can create the color. It's flowers and fashion and textiles and... everything else. No single image is quite right, but together they start to paint the picture of my favorite color. A color that's ephemeral, that must be chased, that doesn't truly exist on its own, but that nonetheless surrounds us and reminds us of the passage of time (in a good way, in a carpe diem kind of way). It's the color that reminds me of childhood and vacations and chasing dreams. The color that combats the winter blues and inspires me (and hopefully you!) to keep looking for all that is beautiful in the world. The color that makes me truly happy.
Below are some representations of my favorite color. What's your favorite color? And why?
(Thanks, Mom, for helping me find my happy.)
Happy inspiring! Happy color hunting!
Happy Valentine's Day! Happy Friday! And Happy Long Weekend!
So much to celebrate today. Love, Fridays, weekends... three of my favorite things. And my favorite things make me pretty darn happy, so I am in good spirits.
But let's be honest: this time of year blows the big one. It's freezing outside, the heater's blazing inside, and our skin and emotional well-being suffer. Valentine's Day carries with this this massive burden of expectation -- will I have a Valentine? Won't I? If I have one, will he/she actually do something for me? Will he/she do enough? What should I do for him/her? What if I don't do enough? It's all just too much.
And to top it off, my skin is so dry I can think of nothing else! I'm serious. Skin. On the mind. All the time. And not in a sexy way.
I have naturally dry skin, and in the winter, it is uncomfortably so. By this time every year, all I can think about is simultaneously lying on a warm, sunny Caribbean beach and bathing in a deep vat of heavy moisturizer (that's disgusting, I know, but I'm serious, my skin is that unhappy, and I haven't truly seen the sun since, like, September, so this really is my fantasy right now). My skin is dry, itchy, flakey, whiter-than-a-ghost... It's just all around unpleasantness for everyone involved. It's a vicious cycle. My skin bothers me. I complain incessantly to Matt. Matt's skin bothers him. He complains incessantly to me. And so on. It's a fun, sexy time for us here in the Kelly household:
So given all of that, why am I so happy on this glorious Valentine's Day that is also a Friday that is also the Friday before a long weekend? Because soon -- not now, but in, like, the next 3-5 business days depending on weather patterns -- my over-parched skin is going to get hydrated in disgustingly luxurious style, and I just can't contain my excitement. Matt and I are not doing Valentine's Day gifts for each other this year, but he ordered this Jo Malone's Lime Basil & Mandarin Body Crème, $75, from Nordstrom.com yesterday as a sign of love and affection. I got stressed, because I have not ordered him a gift, and this crème certainly seems like a gift, so the balance of love and power is all off suddenly, but he claims it is not a gift because I would have ordered it for myself anyway (true), so really it's a wash. I also think he ordered it so he could secretly use it on his own lizard-y skin (much like I enjoy buying things for him that really I want for myself). This non-gift is due to arrive early next week, and I am very much looking forward to ripping open the box and luxuriating in the heavenliness that is this body crème. My skin desperately needs a little lovin'.
Which brings me to this: Love is a many-splendored thing, and it's important to say "I love you" daily to others and to ourselves -- and that means our skin. And often, we forget to do just that.
As you may have guessed by now, nothing says "I love you" quite like this Jo Malone moisturizer (many might argue with me that there are other ways to say it, but I stand by my word). I have tried many a moisturizer in my life, and none has ever actually uttered or compelled my skin to utter the words "I love you," but Jo Malone has come close. Actually, I take that back. Jo Malone has.
Allow me to explain: You twist off the cap of this large glass tub and are immediately hit with the most heavenly scent ever. Music starts to play, slowly and quietly at first, and you're confused because you certainly did not turn on any music and it was definitely not Frankie Valli and the 4 Seasons. "You're just too good to be true..." you hear. You shake your head, but decide to move on. You dip your finger in the pot of heaven -- careful not to take too much, because that sh*t ain't cheap and you want that pot of gold to last for as long as humanly possible. "You'd be like heaven to touch..." the music continues. You shake your head again. This music is weird, but it's true, this luxurious crème actually feels like heaven. You slather it on your dry, thirsty skin, and suddenly the song fast forwards two minutes and fireworks are going off around you and your skin is shouting "I LOVE YOU, BABY...!" from the rooftops as you pat yourself on the back for being such a great inhabitant of your previously love-starved body. You're still a little confused about how a body crème managed to serenade your skin (or did your skin serenade it? it's all very unclear), but you're thrilled because you feel human again and suddenly the fact that it's February and you haven't experienced climate-produced heat or daylight in half a year doesn't seem to matter quite so much.
You've said "I love you" to your skin. And your skin has said "....ditto."
Before this year, I never would have spent $75 on body cream for myself, but my dear friend Emily (yes, the one who gave me that lovely candle I blogged about earlier this week) gave it to me last year along with the Jo Malone candle that I blogged about in December (she is a really good gift giver!), and I have since become addicted. Nothing else will do. I ran out of it a few weeks ago, and have been just distraught ever since. So distraught that even Matt has attempted to justify the crème's practicality. Why, it's so practical that I actually need it. And as he has generously pointed out, the last pot lasted for over a year, so really, on a per-use basis, it's not that expensive it all. Excellent point indeed, my husband. And so, when the box arrives next week, I shall say to him -- and to the crème -- "ditto."
You're worth the splurge. Go for it. Your skin will thank you. And your state of mind will improve drastically. Sometimes you can buy happiness. And love.
Happy Valentine's Day! Happy lovin'!
At some point in recent history, I decided that I have no patience for makeup. In part, I like to sleep as late as humanly possible and still make it to work on time; in part, my bizarre foot problem (avascular necrosis of the sesamoid) has rendered me much less capable of standing in front of a mirror for any period of time that an extensive beauty routine might require; and, in part, I've decided that "natural" is so much, you know, cooler than "done up" (you see how one excuse justifies the next). I also like to bring my makeup with me "on the road" and apply on the go if necessary. Thus, I've arrived at a very speedy and foolproof makeup application process and lineup of products (all for around $100 in total and nothing more than ~$30 individually, but some items will last you for a really long time and are well worth the investment).
There are three keys to makeup success: bronzer, a worthy bronzer brush and eyes.
Bronzer is hands down the fastest way to bring your face to life. In a few quick swipes, you can go from sickly ("Oh, goodness, you just look exhausted today" - Gee, thanks...? You... too?) to glowing ("Oh my goodness, you look fabulous!" - Why, thank you! I do just naturally glow, don't I, dahling?). There are many great bronzers out there - Cargo, Smashbox, Bobbi Brown, and Benefit all make lovely ones - but I've recently come back to an oldie but goodie and am pleased with the results (I ran out of it last month and bought another brand in a pinch to make do, and it's just not the same). For my pale complexion, I love bareMinerals All-Over Face Color in warmth, $19.00. The loose powder may seem unwieldy, but once you get the hang of it, you'll appreciate the control it allows you to have in terms of saturation and placement. Also the color "warmth" may seem like a lot for a pale, semi-freckly face, but it works well on skin with a pink undertone and really does add warmth to your appearance (if your skin's undertone is a bit more yellow, I might recommend the "faux tan" color instead). When going for gold in as little time as possible, I'm not a fan of "matching skin tones" (unless you're just trying to even out your complexion). I put bronzer on for a reason: to look more bronzed.
The Bronzer Brush
It may not seem like it, but splurging on the brush is really worth it - I have cheaped out on a "natural kabuki brush" at Duane Reade to keep at work and lived to regret it. After enough painful applications, it ended up in the trash and I ended up buying a good brush. I used to keep drug store make up at work and keep the "good stuff" at home, but I've since changed my tune. We all spend the majority of our lives at work and deserve to have some nice make up around to spruce up in the morning or before going out at night. A good brush will last you years (provided you clean it appropriately) and will feel lovely on your face (you'll thank yourself with every silky swipe of bronzer). If you want something small for on-the-go or for work, this bareMinerals Full Coverage Kabuki Brush, $28.00, at Sephora, is great. It gives you the benefits of a full-sized brush, but fits somewhat compactly in a makeup bag. This Sephora Collection Classic Must Have Large Powder Brush #30, $36.00, is also really nice (but more space intensive). Throw on a few light swipes of bronzer with these bad boys and don't look back.
While bronzer and the bronzer brush are key to the success of any makeup routine, the eyes are where you can get the biggest bang for your buck in terms of time spent and immediate facial improvement, and it can be done very quickly and will few tools. My favorite quick-and-dirty eye routine is as follows (this is again for someone with relatively pale skin, blue eyes and lightish hair, but is so neutral that it could be used on a variety of complexions, and shades can of course be varied to fit your personal needs and skin tone):
1. Apply this Sephora Collection Retractable Waterproof Eyeliner, $13.00. I use the "10 Matte Brown Black" and on occasion the "21 Matte Deep Plum" (great for blue eyes). It is super easy to use and stays on. I also like that this pencil is retractable and thus does not require sharpening.
2. Using your finger, swipe your lids generously with this amazing Benefit Cosmetics Creaseless Cream Shadow, $20.00, in "R.S.V.P." (a sparkling champagne color). It is literally foolproof and instantly brightens your eyes and face. This goes on so easily and has a lovely shimmer to it to add just a glimmer and a nice "I'm awake!" pop of sheen. Darker skin tones can try "rich fawn."
3. Comb brows lightly and sparingly apply this amazing Benefit Cosmetics Instant Brow Pencil, $20.00. You think you don't need an eyebrow pencil? You do. It will change your life. Get this one. It is so easy - so much easier than using powder - and it makes an insta-difference to your face. It goes quickly, so make sure you have a pencil sharpener handy because you'll need to sharpen every week or two (I normally wouldn't force you to buy something that requires sharpening, but this product is that good). I use the light-to-medium. I have tried to medium-to-dark as well, and it is nice if you want a more dramatic eye, but I prefer the light-to-medium.
4. Finish eyes off with a quick lash curl (if you have a curler) and a few swipes of this incredible Givenchy Noir Couture 4 in 1 Mascara in 1 Black Satin, $15.00. I have the mini (I bought it on a whim while waiting in line at Sephora) and love, love, love it. Buy it. You'll thank me.
Steps 1-3 can be done in any order, but I usually like to end with Step 4. How long did all of that take? Like, maybe a minute. Go from blah to Blake Lively faster than your Keurig can make your coffee.
All of this is available at Sephora in stores or online. If you order online, all orders over $50 receive free 3-day shipping. I like to try things in store though. Make up is a personal choice and what works great for me might not be quite right for you, so I always recommend trying (some) make up out before making a big investment (if you'll recall my issues with sponges though, you'll understand why I recommend just buying the mascara and eyeliner without trying them - the germiness and possible contamination is just not worth it to me, and the mascara and eyeliner I've recommended are universally flattering and not wallet denting). Also, all of the products that I've suggested are so darn neutral too that they should very easily and flatteringly work on a variety of skin types.
Another plus? These are all excellent stocking stuffers and gifties for friends!
It is cold and dreary outside, and I am yearning for a reminder of what summer -- and in particular vacationing in the summer -- is like.
My husband Matt and I went on vacation to California this summer and stayed in some pretty cool hotels throughout our drive up the coast. One of my favorite things about hotel stays is the shampoo/conditioner experience that a hotel chooses to give you. It says so much about the hotel's brand and, if you're lucky to grab some extra mini bottles, gives you a little souvenir that can extend your hotel experience well beyond check out.
Our favorite shampoo/conditioner experience was at The Mondrian in West Hollywood (a deal we got on Jetsetter): Malin + Goetz Peppermint Shampoo and Cilantro Conditioner. It felt so luxuriously hip to wake your hair up with peppermint and cool it down with cilantro. The two scents strangely work great together (though Malin + Goetz, if you're reading this, please make a peppermint or lavender or rosemary conditioner!) and smell so modern compared to the shampoos I've experienced in the past (the scents are also delightfully unisex). Matt and I loved it all so much that, upon returning to "real life" back in New York, we decided that purchasing the full-size Malin+Goetz shampoo and conditioner was a worthy splurge to imbue our regular life with a feeling of vacation. Showering now reminds me of LA summer, relaxed vacation and warm sunshine rather than too-early mornings, the eternal workweek schlep and hustled, inconvenient commutes. It was pricy, but a price worth paying to bring a little summer sunshine into the fall and winter months. And three months later, we still have plenty left in the bottle.
This order marked my first purchase experience from BeautyBar.com, and I must say - amazing. Next-day free delivery?! Don't mind if I do. You also can get 20% off your $30+ order as a first time customer (code BBTAKE20) and free shipping for $35+ orders. That 20% alone convinced me to bump up the size of my first purchase from the 8 oz ($20 for shampoo, $22 for conditioner) to the 16 oz ($36 for shampoo, $40 for conditioner), which allowed me to save $15.20 instead of $8.40 (all in, this is about a $0.70-$0.75 savings per ounce for buying bulk and using the discount code). You know the old promo code shopaholic's adage: you have to buy more to save more! And just think: with next-day delivery, you could be washing your hair in summer hipness by tomorrow night! Ah, modern conveniences.
Malin + Goetz Peppermint Shampoo, $36 for 16oz
beautybar.com (next-day delivery!!)
Malin + Goetz Cilantro Conditioner, $40 for 16oz
beautybar.com (next-day delivery!!)
If you're a buy-in-person type of shopper, in New York, you can purchase your hipness at Bloomingdale's, Gracious Home (Upper East Side and Upper West Side), and the Malin + Goetz Apothecaries (Upper West Side and Chelsea).
Happy cleansing and summer lovin'!
I am an artist/designer and former financial professional with a background in comparative literature, business and design. I live in New York with my overworked lawyer husband and my two boys Michael and Theo and spend much of my free time dreaming about how to enhance the aesthetics of our little world. I am endlessly inspired and always in search of something new. This is a blog about my search, my inspiration and things I just really, really like or want.