WORLD AIDS DAY

There are an estimated 38 million people in the world today living with AIDS. We have stood by and watched this monster become one of the largest epidemics of our generation. I challenge everyone to wear a red ribbon tomorrow. Make a donation to an AIDS charity. Work at a soup kitchen....do something. If you do not have time to physically do something, take a moment and reflect quietly on the over 25 million dead and 38 million infected.

I will be at work tomorrow, on World AIDS day. As a makeup artist for MAC, I am proud to be working tomorrow. I will be speaking to every one of my customers about the AIDS virus and what they can do to help. At MAC, every day is World AIDS Day. The MAC AIDS Fund was created to give back to the community every single day in a major way. MAC has raised over 100 million dollars. This money is given to groups to support men, women, and children living with HIV and AIDS. Every day of the year, MAC sells VIVA GLAM lipsticks and lipglasses. 100% of the retail price paid for this item goes to the MAC AIDS fund. Ever wonder what ONE LIPSTICK can buy? Think on this:

One $14 tube of Viva Glam lipstick will provide health insurance for a child orphaned by AIDS in China for NINE MONTHS.

One $14 tube of Viva Glam lipstick will provide food for an entire support group meeting.

One $14 tube of Viva Glam will buy 1000 condoms in India.

One $14 tube of Viva Glam lipstick can fund fourteen Aids test in Hayti

One $14 tube of Viva Glam lipstick will buy two weeks of groceries for an HIV positive person in the US.

One $14 tube of Viva Glam lipstick will buy one month of food, shelter, medical aid and schooling to a child orphaned by AIDS in Africa.

One $14 tube of Viva Glam lipstick will buy one dose of anti-retroviral drugs to four mothers and their babies to reduce the risk of HIV/AIDS transmission from mother to child in Africa.

One $14 tube of Viva Glam lipstick will buy five days of housing for a family of three in the USA.

One $14 tube of Viva Glam lipstick will buy four HIV tests enabling people to learn their status.

Ever thought you couldn't make a difference. Now you can.

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John Allan's

Here is a story I wrote a while back for a magazine. It never ran, so I thought I would share it with you people. It is about John Allan's, a salon here in the city.
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When you walk in to the door of any John Allan’s Club, you are immediately greeted, seated, and fitted with a black “smoking jacket” type garment with John Allan’s logo on the breast. Looking around the room you see a dozen or so overstuffed brown leather tuck-and-roll chairs filled with well-dressed gentlemen socializing, sipping beer, listening to the cool jazz constantly streaming from the sound system, or waiting for their turn at the classic-style red velvet pool table in the corner. A few men are seated at the bar, sipping from their private liquor reserves (which are stored on the premises with your name on them for your personal use only); and others are tucked away in the cigar room smoking and watching sports or news on television. You could be at any high class gentlemen’s club in the city. The only difference is that John Allan’s is not a private club; it is one of New York City’s most famous men’s salons.

In the good-ole days, a men’s salon was called a “barber shop”. You wait your turn in a Barbisol-soaked environment to have the barber give you a shave and a haircut and fill you in on the town’s business. That’s a little too Mayberry for New York City, but John Allan’s does fulfill that primal male need for comfort, socialization, class and grooming with four locations in Manhattan.

Most men interested in “grooming” would have to swallow their pride and go to a salon which specializes in women’s needs: hair color, acrylic nails, bikini waxing, and celebrity gossip magazines. John Allan’s is an oasis of testosterone for the male who needs a little extra care. The most popular package, the “Full Service” is a reasonable $65 and includes a scalp massage with shampoo, a heated towel for the face, a manicure, a haircut, a shoe-shine, and all the draft beer you care to drink. Adorning the magazine racks are copies of Forbes, BusinessWeek, Vanity Fair, The New Yorker, and Golf Magazine. The clientele are a mixture of young professionals and older gentlemen.

My stylist, Danny, is from Alaska and we spent the entire session debating who had suffered more culture shock upon his arrival to New York City. A Southern boy, I saw his frozen tundra and raised him a Boll Weevil Monument. During our rather heated and animated discussion, I eventually noticed something extraordinary: Danny was cutting my hair with a straight razor. I immediately commented on the fact, and he assured me that my ears were not in danger. I resisted the urge to tell the lovely woman performing my manicure not to push my cuticles so hard. I winced, bore the pain, and tried not to move at all. Danny eventually loosened me up again (read: brought me another beer), and we were off again discussing our childhood—the fear of losing an ear had left me.

After finishing the haircut I was treated to a shoe shine that rivaled Granddaddy’s. I was then free to socialize, drink, play pool, smoke a cigar, or merely hang out and read magazines. After buying a few products, I went to the register to pay and was able to tip individually my stylists in small envelopes. My coat and bag were returned to me and I exited John Allan’s back into the hustle and bustle of Park Avenue feeling a more nostalgic than I had an hour earlier. I had just experienced something I thought only existed in stories my grandfather told me and old black and white movies. I was given an opportunity to visit an era I thought long gone: one where men had a place to go to just be men.

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