“A feature documentary spanning 80 years of revolution in culture, as told through the life of one extraordinary man, VIDAL SASSOON THE MOVIE is the revealing and inspirational story of how one man changed the world with a pair of scissors.
VIDAL SASSOON THE MOVIE is a true rags-to-riches tale, tracing Sassoon’s path from a London orphanage to international success and celebrity. Producer Michael Gordon, founder of hair care company Bumble and bumble, first set out to document Vidal’s life in a richly visual book about icons in the world of hairdressing. What started as an 80th birthday tribute to Sassoon became a movie when Gordon brought on director Craig Teper. While chronicling the fashion, style and social revolutions of the 1960s, VIDAL SASSOON THE MOVIE shows how Sassoon revolutionized the world of hair with his pioneering, geometric, Bauhaus-inspired styles and “wash and wear” philosophy, literally changing the way women look and cut their hair today.”
Directed by: Craig Teper
Produced by: Michael Gordon and Jackie Gilbert Bauer
Cast: Vidal Sassoon, Michael Gordon, Ronnie Sassoon, Grace Coddington,
Mary Quant and Guido
Release Dates: Wilmete Theater - Chicago - 18-Mar
Music Box - Chicago - 18-Mar
IF THE weather reports actually come true, in two days Chicago will be covered feet of snow for the first time since Weibolt’s was around.
So this week we’ll dedicate our posts to stocking up for the hunker down. Naturally, we’re not just talking canned soup.
First things first, you’re going to want lots of water, cozy goodness to swaddle yourself in as you peer through the windows towards the whited out night ski.
Might we suggest:
Hot water bottle
Sleep with it, cuddle up to it on the couch while you watch the new season of 30 Rock. Etsy has a cute-as-heck collection of knitted and felt covers. It’s a brilliant way to keep warm without the heat on full blast.
So ugly, so frivolous and, well, so American (what other country would create a blanket with arm holes because its population needed to be able to reach the snacks and remote while moving as little as possible). BUT they are warm and do indeed do what they purport to do — mainly keep your arms free.
Cuter than the eyesore that is an Ugg boot (frankly, anything is cuter than these things), they keep your feet toasty and can act as inside slippers with some added butt-toning action for those trips you make, snuggie-clad, between the fridge and couch.
Warms you up from the inside out (like whiskey) and is pretty great for you, in all its various incarnations. Keep the kettle on the stove and your mug at the ready.
Pop this on while clad in the snuggie and mukluks, sipping a cup of hot tea, and you’ll be snug as a bug in a rug… with glowing skin. Biore, Aveeno and Bliss all have self-heating products that are pretty fun (and warm) to use. Would also be a nice addition to a warm shower.
I don’t care if it’s walking to the grocery store or doing sit-ups, activity is activity and your body needs it. Most Americans get it by splaying their penitent forms over loathsome bits of machinery that turn exercise into a dreaded chore instead of a joyful, natural part of daily life… and then sitting perfectly still the rest of the day.
When you can’t get to the hamster wheel or dreadmill, you can get your sweat on with a good snowshoe, sled, cross country ski outdoors. Or you can get moving right on your living room floor. We suggest a good dance around the room to your favorite songs or a workout to Bodyrock.tv, which is totally FREE.
Image via Wikimedia.
Yoga usually bores me so badly I would rather do my taxes. Five minutes into every freakin’ class at the East Bank Club, I’m already watching the clock, squinting out of one supposedly closed eye to see it, even when in the twistiest of poses. It’s like being in high school again, except even more boring, if that’s possible.
I just don’t get it.
Maybe it’s because we Westerners have highjacked the holistic practice of yoga and stripped it down to its bare bones, just the physical movements and breathing for the sake of our ‘fitness’ (phf…)
Like healthcare, I would suggest not trying to pluck the best bits from several systems that work, slam them together at high speed and think it’s going to create something super, mega, awesome amazing. It’s a matter of the whole being less than its parts because its parts have been taken from a whole that worked for hundreds of years for a reason!
Yoga stripped of everything but the repetitive series of movements sucks, is basically what I’m saying.
Maybe in an ashram in Uttar Pradesh with some dread-locked yogi leader in a cloth diaper teaching me and my fellow students (no doubt also dread-locked… but white… Antipodean and vewy, vewy high) true Yoga, I would get into it.
As a way to break a sweat and wear cute, form-fitting clothes, I think not. I’ll leave that to the anorexic cougars and the metro men who think it’s a good way to burn calories (not so much) without bulking up (morons).
Anywho, this brings me back to Michelle at Dare to be Fit.
She teaches yoga. Sometimes. Other times she teaches pilates and various other boot camp-style classes.
She is not boring.
At least, I don’t find her other classes boring so I’m assuming my love of her early morning beach workouts during the summer (I highly recommend these) will fortify my will to go on if I loose it a bit during a protracted downward dog.
If you want to do a FREE (can’t really say no to that nowadays, can we?) yoga class taught by a teacher who isn’t going to make you want to scratch out your eyeballs with the blunt corner on a stability block, then might I suggest trying out Michelle.
We have to talk. Seriously.
First, let me say that it’s definitely, you, not me.
I mean, sure there are some things you do well — pizza that’s really thick, drinking beer in the bleachers at a summer Cubs game and, well… I’m sure there are other things but that’s all I have on my list so far.
[*Hears in the distance the violent refrain of the peanut gallery… ‘If you don’t like it, then leave”, always on tap for those who dare to ever besmirch the name of their city, even when valid.]
Here’s the thing. I can’t leave (yet). I’m married to a man who works here. That’s why I came back.
I’m a writer. He makes more than me.
Most people do.
stuck happily living here and trying to find ways to write about your beautiful side. But you do make it hard. You realize this, right?
Soccer-mom-from-Shamburg mecca Mario Triccoci is the big name in beauty.
Women still wear (cringe) brick-colored lip liner
They still ask for ‘The Rachel’ at the hair salon.
Need I go on?
Sometimes it’s exhilarating, this challenge. Other times, I want to throw in the towel (after stuffing it into a bottle and lighting it).
When do such violent thoughts come to mind?
Certainly every time I think about the toenail fungus I picked up at Arbre Nail Salon on McClurg Ct last April (Unsanitary peasants. Clean out your foot baths).
Most recently it’s happening WHEN I SEE BEAUTY BUSINESSES WITH INTENTIONALLY MISSPELLED NAMES.
Why Tyme instead of Time? Xotic instead of Exotic? It just makes you look like a low-grade strip joint. In fact, users of Xotic, just stop using any derivative of exotic wholesale and your business will be better for it.
There’s nothing exotic about your nail salon in Chicago. There. Just. Isn’t.
Other offenders? Nailz, Nu, Xtreme, Curlz, Cutz, Kutz…
And there’s the juvenile play on words that’s endemic to the scene. People, you’re too lazy to name your business like an adult. How must you run it?
Mane Objective, Dye ‘n’ Style… Orlando Pita would die (you see what I did there… DIE instead of DYE) if he had such a hokey salon name. Blandi too. Hershberger as well for that matter. ANYONE WHO’S GOOD AT WHAT THEY DO would be mortified by such a name.
Want some more zingers? Shear Magic, Shear Attraction, Shear Imagination, Beauti (with an ‘i’ instead of ‘y’), Blown Away, Curl Up ‘n’ Dye, Hair’s To You.
You’re basically broadcasting to the world that you’re about as clever as Lindsay Lohan… on crystal meth.
In summary, it’s death by a thousand cuts — and no that’s not another salon name — for a beauty writer here. Except instead of cuts, it’s stupid salon names stamping out the will to live or, indeed, get one’s hair cut, nails done, shoulders rubs or bits waxed when in this city.
Please, Chicago, please, we beg you to do something about this blight.
In haste and desperation,
Chicago Beauty Review