WOMcity

You were the ultimate four-leaf clover: one of a kind, unique, original. You started out afraid of that because of your environment. Not everyone understood. But I did.

When you first arrived on the island of misfit toys I embraced you with both arms because you sparkled, quite literally. I remember the night we met nearly two decades ago. My eyes lit up in the fire of your presence and I think you saw your reflection in them the way you deserved to be seen – a rare beauty, an individual – because we became fast friends. 

You were crazy, I was crazy, but you never made me feel anything less than normal, our normal, the gorgeous anomaly of four-leaf clovers.  Your imagination and creativity were so much fun to be around. You were the best kind of different.  

Your wit and humor, curiosity, intelligence — our conversations lasted deep into the night. And even the tears and heartache, the inevitable costs of life, were somehow less painful in your company. When things got difficult we used to go “dance it off,” which often included recreating the famous lift scene in Dirty Dancing. That was always like a big hug to each other.

For a time, you lived in a stretch limo parked in my neighborhood. Life wasn’t always glamorous, or easy, but your persona belied that when you took the stage. I was an amateur photographer and occasionally accompanied you to performances. One night at a dive bar I captured you in a series of three photographs in the moments before you stepped before the crowd.

Standing on a dirty basement stairwell applying the final touchups to your makeup in the glow of an exposed red lightbulb, you braced yourself as the MC announced your alter ego. I called the triptych “Ten Seconds to On,” since in that brief set of exposures you revealed an emotional rawness that didn’t need a caption. And then, just like that, your smile and talent took over and the audience wasn’t the wiser about what lay beneath the layers of your life.

You were always so much better than the dive bars, but you treated the souls that gathered before you as though they were front row patrons at Carnegie Hall. You were a star. You were their star. You gave them a show and entertained. I’ve never taken a performance, of any kind, for granted again. You both awed and humbled me with your resilience and grace, even when people were less than kind.

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One night we went to The Duplex in the West Village so you could enter a drag competition and make more than just a few bills tossed at your feet.  At the last minute you had a change of heart and showed up clean faced in jeans and a t-shirt.

“Where’s Scarlet?”

You declared you were there as yourself, as Austin, and would not be lip-synching, but instead performing acapella without costume. They resisted at first, but you persuaded them to reluctantly include you in the lineup.

They made you go last and the rowdy room was less than enthusiastic with your bland appearance. But all that changed as you held the mic — and their attention — and transformed before their eyes. You had a way of reaching people with lyrics and storytelling. Your voice was soulful and haunting, but also profoundly moving. It was your story, but it was all of ours, because you cared so so so much.

I’ll never forget the song you sang (“What Happens When The Heart Just Stops” by The Frames) and the feeling in every note, pause and refrain. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything quite like that and I still think of you whenever the first few chords begin to play. No one will ever sing it like you did. You brought the entire room to tears and left with the $100 prize. No costume, no makeup, just you. I was so proud.

When we left it was raining, but we skipped like kids all the way back to the East Village.  All your life you tried to fit in, and not fit in, but really just figure yourself out. That night you were everything you wanted to be, and accepted for it. You were free.

I know you are at peace now, but I am filled with sorrow at the realization I won’t see you again in this life. I hope you know how loved you were and that you will always occupy a huge place in my heart. Goodbye, Austin, beautiful friend and forever a four-leaf clover.

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Casa Flamboyant Bed & Breakfast is perfect for anyone looking to escape the city (or the burbs) and trade WiFi connectivity with nature connectivity. There are only three rooms on the sprawling property, nestled in the middle of the rainforest, making the intimate setting perfect for those seeking quiet solitude or inspiration.   

Hosts Ricky and Florin’s extensive knowledge of food and botany is demonstrated with locally sourced and prepared breakfasts (which were delicious) and placards around the property describe the extensive flower and plant species. Private trails led into the rainforest directly from the property where guests can hike or bath in the waterfalls. 

A beautiful freshwater pool on the property is refreshingly free of chemicals (and kids) and filters water from the waterfalls. The eco-friendly B&B is big on renewable energy and powered by solar panels, the energy of which is stored in Tesla batteries.

We only spent two days there, but could have stayed much longer. Casa Flamboyant is ideal for couples looking to travel together since you can book all three rooms and have a sense of togetherness while also being able to retreat to separate quarters.

Only breakfast is provided, but the rooms come with small refrigerators that you can stock with food if you want to stay on the property. You can also drive into town for local dining — which we took advantage of for lunch — however it can be a bit harrowing at night on the winding roads so I would recommend staying on the property after dark.

Even though you’re in the heart of the rainforest you can leave the bug spray at home since the coqui’s take care of everything, quite literally. They are also quite vocal at night, which we found to be a soothing kind of white noise. Come morning, the birds take over where the coqui’s left off. So many species, sounds and colors, a visual and auditory experience delivered daily by Mother Nature. 

Casa Flamboyant enhances the simple pleasures of those seeking a retreat from “the life hustle” with a beautiful place to read, write, meditate, and just be one with nature.

For more information, visit their website or email: info@casaflamboyantpr.com

Tel: 787-559-9800

NYC is a strange, strange place right now during the coronavirus. The streets are quiet, especially at times when they shouldn’t be. The urban bumblebees (taxis) no longer whiz by. Many of my neighbors have left, so when I turn out the lights at night it’s just darkness. I used to see inside everyone’s apartments like Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window. People’s lives were like fireflies, flickering on and off, a connectivity that’s been lost.

The circadian rhythm of the city has shifted and it doesn’t feel right. The hustle has become a hush.  Even after 9/11 we were all here, embracing each other, supporting one another’s businesses. The city never shut down. If anything, it rallied.  When I step outside now it’s as though I’m in a weird dream. Empty streets scattered with a few masked souls. The life force has been muted. There is no volume.

The other week I went for a walk in the park because I was getting stir crazy at home. I saw a man sitting alone on a bench with a bunch of belongings staring aimlessly in the distance. Even though his expression was obscured by his mask, his eyes spoke volumes.  I don’t know if he’d lost someone, a job, housing, but I was compelled to go sit with him, like someone did for me after 9/11, but then I remembered the decree and kept my distance. 

There will be a rebirth. There always is. And the cyclical nature of life will resume. But for now the city that never sleeps remains silent, until she can sing again. Listen for her.

Last year my new year’s resolution was to become an indoor cycling instructor. Instead, I had a double mastectomy. As an otherwise healthy 45-year-old who ate well and regularly exercised, this came as a shock.

I got my spinning certification in January and enrolled in a cycle mentorship program through Equinox where I spent every Saturday for eight weeks with a coach and a dozen others sweating towards the same goal. At the conclusion of the training we auditioned in front of a room full of Equinox GM’s.

One week later, still on a high from completing the course and braving the audition, I got the diagnosis and had to withdraw from becoming an instructor.

After numerous tests, including seven excruciatingly painful needle biopsies, the doctor’s told me I had lobular carcinoma in situ, LCIS, which is considered stage zero breast cancer.  It was like someone threw a stick in the spoke of my bike wheel.

Suddenly, my five-day-a-week workouts came to a screeching halt and the once fit and active me was now filling out paperwork preparing to take a leave of absence from my job. I barely ever took sick days, much less faced something of this magnitude. It was incredibly humbling.

I decided to make the difficult decision of removing my breasts because the alternative options were not much better.  If anything, undergoing radical surgery was facing the issue head on. Cancer has taken people I love, so I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. I didn’t have it yet, but it was heading straight towards me so I was gonna knock it out like a cassowary bird.

(cue LL Cool J “Mama Said Knock You Out.”)

After the double mastectomy I faced months of recovery as I underwent reconstruction. It was one of the most painful experiences of my life, but not without a silver lining. In the process, a friend became a boyfriend and I found true love.

After my mother returned home Gerrard took over caring for me and never left. He’s accompanied me to every doctor’s appointment, even simple blood work, and hasn’t wavered once in his support. We’re now living together and preparing to adopt a cat.

As the year draws to a close and I ponder what I’ll resolve to do in the next, I’m considering getting back on the bike and trying again. Everyone faces health hurdles at one time or another in life. After all, we aren’t machines (and even those break down too) so I’d like to help others right their ships and stay the course.

If I can bring this experience to a cycling class, it will be something else that made this past year’s struggle all the more worth it. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what was intended all along. The full stop, in order to start from the place I was meant to begin.

If you were a teenager in the 80’s you probably remember Ralph Lauren’s Polo cologne in the classic green bottle. Despite pimples, parachute pants, copious amounts of hair spray and neon color palettes, Polo made you cool. Or at least on the way.

Fourteen-year-old Chris Collins was obsessing over another popular fragrance at the time, Calvin Klein’s Obsession for Men. Prior to that he’d grown up smelling his father’s cologne, Geoffrey Beene’s Grey Flannel. The bottle, the label, even the flannel bag it came in all left an impression.

Collins always loved fragrance and the powerful associations communicated through the olfactory nerve. Scent was its own language and he found himself longing to be the author of its many stories. Decades later he met the Hemingway of perfumers himself, Kilian Hennessy, which resulted in months in the South of France learning the craft.

“My entire life I’ve been obsessed with fragrance.  I would always say to myself, ‘I wish I could create my own scent,” says Collins.  “When I started to learn the process of perfume creation I was hooked.  There are about 3,000 notes that can be used by a perfumer.  To see them work to build a scent from scratch is art.  The very concise method of building a fragrance with its top, heart and base notes… is magical.” 

What’s also magical is seeing a passion through to fruition. Collins spent his early career as the face of Ralph Lauren. After 20 years as a model, he is now the face of Chris Collins, Alchemy of Fragrance, having made his dream come true with the launch of his eponymous line.

“After my experience with Kilian, I just finally had the courage to do it.  The courage to create fragrances that I fell in love with and to share them with the world,” says Collins, who debuted his fragrance line at Bergdorf Goodman in New York City. The launch party was so packed I said “Excuse me” to a mannequin I accidentally bumped on the floor of the men’s store. He was okay.

The collection features three artisanal fragrances (Harlem Nights, Renaissance Man, and Danse Sauvage) which are inspired by Harlem’s rich history and Paris during World War I.

“This particular collection is dedicated to the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920’s and its influence on the one that’s happening now,” says Collins, citing a cultural rebirth within the community, where he lives in a historic brownstone.

His famous face no doubt lent to landing prestigious retailers such as Bergdorf’s (and Ron Robinson at Fred Segal Melrose in Los Angeles) but Collins also credits his extensive modeling experience with playing a key role in understanding an important element in the success of any new product: branding.

He recounts his first visit to the distinctive Ralph Lauren “Polo mansion” on the Upper East Side in 1999. The impeccable attention to detail impressed him, from the weight and size of the doors, to the stately antiques and mahogany cabinetry, to the classical music and art. Even the staff made him feel like a visiting dignitary.

“I learned that day that any successful brand has to create a unique experience their customer feels a part of, and the language and message have to be strong and consistent,” says Collins. “Almost as important as the product you’re offering is the way you make people feel when they possess it.”

The fragrances, which are 50 ml and retail for $160, come in an elegant glass flask with a copper cap, similar to those found in Harlem speakeasies. Danse Sauvage is a nod to the renowned late entertainer, Josephine Baker, the first person of color to star in a major motion picture in 1934.

And speaking of women, at the launch, which coincided with International Women’s Day, Collins gave a speech that began with a special shoutout to women, the most important of which was his proud and beaming mom standing nearby.  She later joked that she was relieved his line was finally complete so she could now throw away the hundreds of little sample bottles that had been accumulating in her home.

Even though the fragrances were created for men, they have a universal quality for anyone that appreciates a bold, daring scent experience. Several women I spoke with were purchasing Danse Sauvage and Harlem Nights, citing a unisex appeal, whereas I picked up Renaissance Man for one such gentleman himself.

Collins worked on the line for two years, taking the advice of his mentor Kilian not to rush the process. In an age where celebrities churn out fragrance like fast food, his careful approach is refreshing and with intention. You get the sense he’s not just in it for the acclaim, but rather to feed a deeply meaningful creative hunger. 

He’s also upfront in admitting that he’s not a perfumer.  He holds great reverence for individuals like Kilian and other notable noses, likening them to artists, whereas he is merely the curator assembling a memorable collection that will leave a lasting impression.

And, if the launch was any indication of how Chris Collins, Alchemy of Fragrance, will be received by the public, he could very well be the next iconic scent coveted by fragrance lovers everywhere.

If you wore makeup that prevented tears or used shampoo that stopped hair growth, that would feel weird, right? Yet millions of people apply aluminum-based antiperspirant to block their bodies from doing what’s natural: sweating.

I’d never really put too much thought into the difference between deodorant and antiperspirant until I started practicing Bikram yoga several years ago and learned to embrace sweat — and I mean really embrace it. The 90 minute practice takes place in a 105 degree room and you’re pouring buckets by the end.

At first it took some getting used to, as our preconditioned self-consciousness kicks in, but soon it became a liberating release that I looked forward to. I also started noticing the benefits of Bikram-induced sweating. My skin, mental clarity and even sleep were all improved as a result of the practice, much of which I credit to the release of toxins and impurities via sweat.

Which brings me back to deodorant versus antiperspirant and the brand that brought it into focus for me: Schmidt’s Naturals. I’d heard of natural deodorant before, but like many people I assumed it didn’t work or smelled like patchouli. I’m also skeptical of unsubstantiated claims linking antiperspirant to cancer or Alzheimer’s. But then again, why take the risk? There was a time when people drank alcohol and smoked during pregnancy before those dangers were established too.

Schmidt’s was founded in 2010 in Portland, Oregon by Jaime Schmidt. Like many indie brands, it started as a side-project in her kitchen because she felt the market was lacking. Other brands either didn’t work effectively, smelled too hippy, or were just uninspiring and boring. Schmidt essentially wanted to take an unsexy product and make it not only clean, but cool.

So she set out on a mission to “change the way you think about deodorant.” Instead of clogging your glands with controversial ingredients to stop sweating, she created formulas derived from plants and minerals to combat odor instead. This is where she got creative, with scents like Jasmine Tea, Coconut Pineapple, Cedarwood and Juniper, to name a few. Occasionally the line features custom products based on the season. Last fall I purchased Earth + Wood, a limited time offer. The scent is subtle and unique.

After focusing on deodorant for six years the company decided to expand its product line and introduced bar soap in 2017, followed by toothpaste soon after. The toothpaste comes in flavors like Vanilla Chai and Coconut Lime, and the soaps have fun exfoliants like volcanic sand, orange peel and apricot seed. For people using products that contain microbeads, these natural alternatives are much better for the environment.

The aromas in the soaps and deodorant are delicate but present, which appealed to me because I’ve moved away from products with strong fragrance after learning about the reality of synthetic ingredients. But if you’re still new to natural and unsure about letting go of antiperspirant, Schmidt’s has a blog called The Natural, which helps ease in the laymen.

Sweat makes a lot of people uncomfortable, even vulnerable, and there’s a lot of messaging around connecting it to weakness in men and a lack of femininity in women. Yes, there are moments it’s not convenient or particularly attractive, but there are different kinds of sweat and it’s about learning to read it, not fear it.

Ultimately we all have a scent, and it’s that base animal element that draws us to certain people and repels us from others. We are highly evolved creatures that have developed innovative products to make us more socially acceptable, but sometimes it’s okay to go back to the basics and just sweat. And products like Schmidt’s Naturals help take the edge off without potentially compromising your health.

Scrolling through Instagram one day I came across a post by a company called Mythologie that sells luxurious facial oils. The photo was beautiful, but it was the caption that caught my eye because it referenced the Halcyon, a mythical bird said to nest at sea holding the power to charm the wind and waves into calm.

It reminded me of another mythical bird, the Phoenix, which obtains new life by rising from the ashes of its predecessor. I’ve always associated the Phoenix with New York City following 9/11, so it was an interesting coincidence when I reached out to the founder, Tracy Atkinson, and learned that the aftermath of that day is what caused her to create the company.

In 2001 Tracy was living in Brooklyn Heights and I was in the East Village. That day would be a turning point for everyone. Shock, horror and devastating personal loss were just a few of the emotions we experienced.

Then came the physical side effects.

As Ground Zero smoldered in the months that followed, toxic fumes made their way toward Brooklyn Heights, only a mile-and-a-half across the East River. Tracy was told to close her windows and run an air purifier 24/7. She did, but within a few months everyone in her household had developed eczema.

For my part, I developed a strange stomachache that caused diarrhea for weeks. I saw a doctor, who told me it was stress, but the smells that followed the events of that Tuesday morning were so powerful and noxious that I began to question the health impacts of the air quality. I was given a prescription, but Tracy made a different choice. 

She explained, “I was faced with taking steroids to control the break-outs or adopt a more holistic approach. I decided on the latter. I began to make changes in both my diet and skincare products. Anything that was unnatural went out and I began using botanical oils both internally and externally.”

Over time she began creating her own face and body oils. She had no idea this search for gentle healing following that unspeakably violent day would eventually lead to the creation of Mythologie, but nearly 15 years later her Phoenix rose from the ashes and the brand was born.

Like most small business owners in the green beauty space, Tracy is trying to educate consumers about the benefits of using natural products versus the mainstream familiars that often contain harsh ingredients. One of her products uses Kiwi seed oil, which is a powerful anti-inflammatory that calms the skin and promotes elasticity and the regeneration of skin cells. I currently slather this liquid gold all over my face and neck before bed.

In keeping with her mythological theme she explains the Mythologie lineage is both ancient and international. “We draw on beauty secrets and powerful healing traditions from cultures around the world dating back thousands of years. From the amazing healing ability of Sea Buckthorn Oil, with origins in ancient Greece and the Himalayas, to Neroli (Orange Blossom) Oil used by the ancient priests and priestesses of Egypt, to the African botanical treasure, Marula Oil, often called ‘Miracle Oil,’ we use some of the most treasured and powerful ingredients that the earth has to offer.”

So if you’re looking to go a little easier on yourself and support a brand that supports you, visit Tracy’s website to learn more about the three magical birds in her nest at Mythologie.

 

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Creative people turn me on. I’m not just talking about artist types, but entrepreneurial types. People that think in ideas and advancements. Innovative problem solvers and visionaries. I love being around their energy, passion and purpose. Some are beautifully eccentric, others admirably courageous. But no matter the individual, they all share a fire that propels them to do what they do.

These brilliant and bold leaders are also a lot of fun, which is why the Indie Beauty Expo invites the public to come meet over two-hundred of them on Wednesday, August 23rd, from 5-9pm at Skylight Clarkson Square in West Soho (550 Washington St.)

If you’ve ever dreamed about starting your own business, regardless of the product or service, these are your people. Little guys and gals that all started somewhere. The inspiration in this room is palpable and we welcome you to be a part of it. And, if you happen to like beauty and wellness brands, even better. This is your mecca of discovery.

Come prepared to shop (major discounts offered) learn and laugh (interesting panel discussions) and party (music, drinks and other cool surprises).

So, if creative people turn you on too, then what a great way to end a long day at the office and serve as the ultimate aphrodisiac on hump day.

Visit the IBE website for tickets and use code IBENY17FRIENDS for a 20% discount.