Contributing Editor Cologne Schmidt writes:

During the craziness of New York Fashion Week, I was invited into Estee Lauder’s lavish 40th-story private salon—which included a tour of Estee’s perfectly preserved and elegant corner office. From this angle, Central Park and Uptown Manhattan looked like a miniature replica, sunlit and surprisingly still from so high up. And as a refreshing divergence from the week’s catwalk-generated gluttony and irresistible ‘want want wants’, this night was dedicated to something altogether bigger than beauty: the Estee Lauder Companies’ Breast Cancer Awareness Campaign.

Evelyn Lauder, Senior VP of the Estee Lauder Companies and the Founder and Chairman of The Breast Cancer Research Foundation, spoke on behalf of the initiative. A true prodigy and selfless pioneer, Evelyn Lauder, interestingly, is responsible for co-creating the Pink Ribbon symbol of breast health and hope back in 1992. This unifying symbol, that transcends languages and boundaries, will have been distributed all over the world by the BCA in the form of 85 million Pink Ribbons by the end of 2009 (this year’s all made completely by recycled materials!).

And this is where the beauty consumers come in. Fifteen of the Estee Lauder Companies’ highly sought-after brands will sell a particular product (labeled ‘Pink Ribbon Product’ to raise money for the Breast Cancer Research Foundation to find a cure in our lifetime. (more…)

My mom was on my mind a lot this weekend!  It’s been over four months since she died and I love feeling her with me as I’m driving, walking, getting ready for bed or simply lost in my thoughts.   I feel so insanely blessed–to be alive, to do what I love, to love what I do, to have developed enough resilience that I take the bad with the good and keep pressing forward–and I remind myself of my luck and of life’s gifts to me on a daily basis.

When Johnson’s Body Care approached me, offering to host a charity beauty sale, I jumped at the chance!  We threw a party today, generously supported by J&J through a kick-off donation of $100, in honor of my mother’s memory, with all proceeds going to the Lymphoma Research Foundation.  In total, we raised just under $1000–somewhere, my mother is pleased!  As luck would have it, the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society was hosting a bachelor auction on Friday night, so I attended that as well, and “won” a strapping young man for a fun date.  Mama Jolie would have been pleased by that, too!

My beauty sales have become yearly events, and I’m already planning the next one, which I’m tentatively throwing in late November/early December.  If you’re interested in getting involved, either as a guest or as a sponsor, please email me at nadine@jolienadine.com.

Here are the Johnson’s gift bags, full of Johnson’s Body Care 24 Hour Body Lotion and 24 Hour Moisturizing Body Wash, and Be Radiant Exfoliating Body Wash and Be Radiant Cocoa & Shea Butter Lotion.  I also threw in some extra Neutrogena goodies I had from my last sale, some Bare Escentuals Bare Minerals foundation samples, and a copy of my new book Confessions of a Beauty Addict!

Here’s the table with the beauty products on it before the sale started…

And a video after the sale ended!  Thanks to all who came, and a very special thank you to Johnson and Johnson for hosting!

 I received this email from M., and had to reprint in full:

Become Natasha’s Hero! Time Sensitive: April 24-30 Free Bone Marrow Donor Registration Online.

Natasha Collins is an outstanding 26 year-old Yale medical student who is battling leukemia for the second time, and she needs your help to save her life. At the age of 23, Natasha was diagnosed with Acute Myelogenous Leukemia (AML). After two years of treatment, followed by a cord blood transplant, Natasha came to the Yale School of Medicine to pursue her dream of becoming a doctor. Unfortunately, during her first year as a medical student Natasha was re-diagnosed with leukemia. She braved chemotherapy, and now she needs a bone marrow transplant to save her life. But out of the millions of registered bone marrow donors worldwide, Natasha does not have a match. We are asking you to register because you could be Become Natasha’s Hero.

Please consider registering for the Be the Match Registry. Our online drive for Natasha is April 24-30. You can register for free at www.marrow.org using the code BK041309. By joining the Registry, you give hope to patients everywhere with leukemia, lymphoma and a variety of other diseases. When you register as a bone marrow donor, you join a global movement of more than 12 million donors who stand ready to give someone a future. You may never be called upon to donate, but if you are, you and perhaps only you will have the power to save a life.

A little about Natasha: She grew up in Syracuse, NY, with her mom, dad and younger brother (Anne, Ted and Teddy). Natasha graduated magna cum laude from Cornell University and is now a student at the Yale School of Medicine. In addition to being a stellar student, loving daughter, and generous friend, Natasha loves to cook, knit, travel, and eat carrot cake. From her volunteering to her teaching chemistry in Qatar, Natasha has touched many lives. She has a bright future as a doctor and we need your help to make this dream come true.

Natasha is half African American and half Caucasian, making her a molecular minority because her bone marrow is difficult to match. A match for her is likely to also be of mixed heritage. Minority and mixed heritage donors are underrepresented in the Registry and very much needed. That being said, we encourage everyone to sign up to offer hope to all those looking for donors.

Registering is simple and takes as little as five minutes, and our online drive will allow you to register for free. You will be asked to fill out a basic form with your contact information and medical history (which remains protected), and then you will swab the insides of your cheeks with a kit that is mailed to your home. No blood draw is required. Your saliva is all that is needed to register. Five minutes of your time today could mean a lifetime for someone like Natasha.

Thank you,
Natasha, her family, and her friends

(more…)

“I have found that the death of a parent–any parent–can set us free.  It offers us our last, best chance to become our truest, deepest selves.  It creates unique opportunities for growth–possibilities unimaginable before and not available by any other means.  Nothing else in adult life has so much unrecognized potential to help us become more fulfilled human beings–wiser, most mature, more open, less afraid.”
– from Death Benefits by Jeanne Safer, Ph.D., as quoted in James Wolcott’s Vanity Fair, March 2009 article

As you can imagine, I about fell out of my chair when I read that.  It summed up to the letter feelings I had in the days after my mother died, and reminded me of the beautiful knowledge I’ve been gifted: life is short, so live it.

Every year, L’Oreal Paris gives the female Golden Globe nominees for Best Actress Drama and Best Actress Comedy a special, super-duper fancy compact.  Below is this year’s gorgeous offering, a 18K gold, diamond and lemon citrine Carelle “Harmony” compact–Kate Winslet and Angelina Jolie were, of course, among the lucky recipients–which is also being auctioned off for the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund on Ebay (it runs through January 18th).  It’s valued at $3650 (hello, way out of my price range!) although the starting bid was $500.  Lovely glamour, if you can swing it!

It’s been a couple of days since my mother died, and I’m not dealing with it the way I imagined I would. When, if ever, I vaguely thought of her passing, I sort of assumed I’d be heartbroken, bereft, inconsolable. But, strangely, life goes on.  I miss her like mad, of course, but I’ll forget that she’s gone.  I’ll pull out my cell phone and think, “I should call mama to see how she’s doing” before remembering that’s not possible.  Luckily, however, I’m not broken–which I know would make her happy.  I laugh, I joke about the bizarre hours following her death with my brother, I cuddle with our family cat, I think idly of boys I have crushes on. Mostly, I remember that, while she left way too soon, there are still family members here with me now, and I don’t want to miss a thing with them–particularly my dad and my little brother.  I don’t want my life to pass as I cry self-indulgently about her being gone: in my mind, either she’s in a better place, or she’s chilling out for all eternity the same way she did before she came into the world–regardless, she’s not in pain and doesn’t need my tears.  I love talking about her, but in celebration of her life, not in mourning for her death.

Like everybody, I have my vices and failings–laziness and vodka spring to mind!–but I now feel a quiet desire to honor my mom’s memory by living the best life I can.  I’m still learning the parameters of it as I go, but it doesn’t necessarily include wealth or fame or success; nor does it include duty or sacrifice or family planning. I’m seeking depth, rather than breadth: I want to pare done what I do, but make it  good; worth my while.  I’m hoping I can remove the nonsense, take away the mindless diversions, while embracing the little things that make life beautiful.

Yesterday, my brother P. and I talked about going to Bali; “Let’s do it, rather than just talk about it,” we said.  My mother used to tell me that she and my father never needed to spoil me, because I spoiled myself–but the focus has sharpened and the mind feels clear.  I want to experience life, dive headfirst into it, love it.  And so far, I feel lucky, because I have, and am, and do.   I can be part of my mom’s legacy, and I hope with all my heart to make her proud.

Forgive me for working through this alongside you, but–naturally–at this moment, she’s at the center of everything I do.

My mother Nancy passed away at 10:36 pm last night.  I’m a jumble of emotions right now–devastated that I’ll never again hear her voice, so happy she’s out of pain, feeling guilty that I didn’t spent every possible second with her following the diagnosis, relieved that I spent what precious time I did talking to her and appreciating her–but I am mostly just numb.  My little brother was not in the room, so it was left for me to go back to the apartment while the other family remained with her body; I then told my 19 year old brother that his mother was gone.  Most of the tears I have already shed are for P., too young to have his mother taken from him, and for my mother Nancy herself, only 55 when she went, and with too many wonderful possibilities ahead of her.

In a strange way, I feel that everything that has happened to me in my life has led to this moment: toughening me in some ways, softening me in others, but mostly preparing me for the realization that life will surprise you, offering experiences both beautiful and terrible, though equally illuminating and important.  I’m trying to just accept the lessons and ride the wave of the unknown. We’ve just arrived to Dallas, and her funeral is tomorrow.  Luckily, the mood of the family (aside from one very weepy mother-in-law; my grandmother) is joyous and celebratory.  All things considered, Nancy went in a good way, and we love her like crazy.