My new friends at Neiman Marcus in the Galleria here in Houston invited me to an intimate lunch celebrating the launch of the Diana Vreeland Parfums line. What made the lunch extra special (in addition to a certain high-profile Houston socialite sitting across the table from me) was that the creator of the line, Alexander Vreeland, grandson of Diana, was in attendance.
Thanks to my alma mater playing in the first ever College Football Playoffs National Championship game, I actually missed watching the live coverage of this year’s Golden Globes. After experiencing a disappointing loss by my beloved Oregon Ducks, it took several days to get over my sadness. Alas, the fashion coverage must go on! Time to get down to red carpet business. I’ve reviewed all the scouting reports and game tape and am now ready to share my red carpet review.
EDITOR’S NOTE: Beautypendence brings you the final installment in this three-part series about growing back hair after chemo. (See first post about my mom’s experience here, and second post from Sarah, a firsthand account here.)
Mary Beth is best friends with one of my college roommates, Leslie. I’ve always known MB as fun-loving, witty and beautiful. Cancer hasn’t changed that one bit. She and I share a love of film, but Mary Beth actually gets to work in the biz. However, her healthcare coverage isn’t ideal for cancer treatments. Last weekend her friends hosted a benefit in Austin in her honor that I was unfortunately out of town for. However, we can all still help her out by making a donation! I asked Mary Beth if I could share this Paypal link with my readers. I know any amount you contribute will be greatly appreciated. And now, her story, in her words.
In May 2012 at the age of 36, I was diagnosed with Stage IIIe Non-Hodgkins lymphoma. My first thought was: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Phillipians 4:13). It was a scripture I would repeat many, many times over the next year. And with that, my battle with cancer began.
Ever since I can remember I’ve been known as “the girl with the pretty, long blonde hair.” I’ve spent many nights as a child, squirming in my chair while my mother painstakingly rolled my hair in pink spongy rollers, in hopes that I would wake up with a head of curls like my fellow cheerleaders.