Sunday, February 20, 2011


I have a girlfriend who will be celebrating her 30th this year on Halloween and she and her sister and I have decided to do it up big in Vegas. Since my 30th birthday ended up falling on a cold windy rainy traffic laden Friday night, my birthday party that year (as well as every major birthday party I've ever had) was less than well attended. So I'm looking forward to her's, October in a climate where you can wear a skimpy outfit without planning on only going places that have a coat and umbrella check. And since its Las Vegas, and I happen to be a woman who owns a jewelry company, it will be one more opportunity this year to draw some attention and hand out some business cards.

Yes, Halloween is still seven months away, but I do tend to plan my costumes that far ahead, I mean that kind of fabulousness can't just be whipped out at the last minute, it takes preparation. As things continue to come together for the online store, and I make plans for a blow out launch party and a trip to the East Coast this summer for a pageant/PR campaign, the year is shaping up to be a very over the top all out glam year for me. I wouldn't want it any other way (you know, in case this is the year before the end of modern society as we know it.)

In keeping with the all out glam theme, I think it may finally be the year I do Marie Antionette. I hadn't gone there before because it got a little cliché trendy there for a few years when the movie with Kirsten Dunst came out, but that is dying down now so I think it might be the perfect time to go for it. I've also been having these visions lately of how I might someday pull together a dream of an actual physical store, and in my mind's eye, I see white glitter covered mannequins in the front window, with Marie Antionette wigs, wearing my little feathered top hats and mini crowns. The fabulous former Dauphine of France is sort of becoming a sub-theme to my 2011.

The one issue I've been stumbling over a little since my revelation about contributing to the downfall of society, has been finding a balance between the utter fabulousness that I normally embody, and something called . . . humility. Shamelessness is pretty much the exact opposite of humility. How does one keep a modicum of humility when all of their goals involve promoting something that's all about freedom of expression, freedom to be over the top, and the freedom to boldly say “LOOK AT ME!!!?”

Well, for a start, I'm working on a page for my website to provide links and information on various charitable and/or activist organizations I already support, and can support even more through my business. For example, things like donating some jewelry to The Ruby Room, a local organization which collects used formal gowns and provides them to girls who can't afford a dress for their prom. Girls need the right jewelry for that prom dress, too. Shameless Glamour is going to be all about helping teens cultivate self-esteem through supporting organizations like The Ruby Room and keeping the arts in schools, as well as safe cosmetics for glamour that doesn't hurt the environment or cause disease. So, social responsibility may provide a little bit of weight to the other side of the scale, conscious-wise, but does it really help me remain humble? No, not really. It makes me feel even better about myself. Now look at me, I'm all sparkly and fabulous and helping others and saving the world and crap.

The thing about the word humilty that scares me is that from the same root comes the word humilate. I don't like to be humiliated. I don't want to have to lose embarrassingly to learn a lesson. I don't want to lose period. I want to be the decisive and glorious victor. Funny that my choice for a Halloween costume this year is someone who I'm sure, must have felt the same way. I wonder if Marie Antionette had moments (maybe just before the angry mob of French countrymen chopped off her head?) when she thought she needed a little more humility? Maybe I should go as Marie, post revolution. A zombie with head re-attached, yet now humble, Marie Antionette. Hmmm . . . I'll think about it.

No comments:

Post a Comment