We hear so many platitudes about beauty—that it is in the eye of the beholder; that it is only skin deep; that it comes from within; that it doesn’t buy happiness…no, wait. That’s money. All true (except for the part about money). I happen to believe that one thing above all others makes a woman (or a man, for that matter) beautiful: confidence. The French call it bien dans sa peau, or being comfortable in your own skin.
I think that you should accept your uniqueness and not try to follow fashion or trends, because they can backfire and make you look ridiculous. I’ve survived many fashion fads…just barely. When I was growing up in the South in the 1950s, we wore bobby socks, saddle shoes, twin sets, poodle skirts, cinch belts, neck scarves, and crinolines—lots of them—that had to be starched with sugar water. They made us look like fat ballerinas! Then there were the linebacker shoulderpads from the 1980s. What were we thinking? Through it all, I’ve learned that I look and feel my best when I am the best possible version of myself, inside and out.
Back in ’02, (you probably think that’s 1902), nobody wore extensions, nobody puffed up their lips, and nobody had fake boobs or big butts. I mean if you had big boobs, you were considered bovine.[1] We used to wear minimizers and girdles to camouflage all of the above. Now people buy spillage. I think fake body parts are kind of scary. There were no breast or booty implants in my day, and the world may have been a better place as a result. So let me offer my thoughts on diet, makeup, hair, wardrobe, and everything else that goes into achieving a look that is classically glamorous.
It probably seems strange for a Southerner to offer advice about diet because we are not famous for being the healthiest eaters. I consider fried chicken, pimento cheese, ham and biscuits, Krispy Kreme donuts, and candy corn to be in a food group all their own—and I will never give them up. So, the battle to maintain my waistline is one that never ends. Name the fad diet and I’ve been on it, hoping to make those dreaded extra pounds disappear.
All fad diets work, until they don’t. I’ve discovered that the best way to manage my weight is the Mediterranean approach. I eat healthy, organic food. That means seafood that is not farmed, organic chicken, grass-fed beef, and lots of vegetables. I stay away from fruit unless it is high in fiber. My favorites are raspberries, blackberries, and pears. Michael frequently undermines my best efforts by whipping up irresistible temptations like his famous sweet potato casserole, and I’ve been known to roll over and play dead for a divine box of chocolates. But I try to control myself. And I drink plenty of alkaline water for hydration and digestion.
One of my favorite vegetables is the artichoke. It seems to have gone out of style, and I can’t imagine why, because it is truly a crowd-pleaser at lunch or dinner. An artichoke with sauce sounds like a sinful combination, but they’re so fibrous, and they take so long to eat, that you’re probably burning more calories than you consume. That’s why they’re so popular with supermodels. Michael steams them to perfection and serves them on special plates, with a ramekin of melted butter on the side.
Trim the tops and bottoms to make them level and steam upside down for an hour. Mrs. A likes melted butter. I like browned butter with lemon, shallots, and crushed capers. Balsamic vinegar is another favorite of mine, with a drop of honey to lessen the bite. I also like a classic Béarnaise.
And here’s the proper way to eat an artichoke:
By the way, it is perfectly proper to eat asparagus with your fingers, too, as long as it is firm and undressed. If a sauce is served, Emily Post recommends using a knife and fork. When eating finger foods, a crystal finger bowl filled with water and lemon is a nice touch at the end of the meal. Just make sure you set an example for your guests so no one makes the faux pas[2] of picking it up and drinking it—I think one of Whitney’s friends did that!
I also think it is important to have healthy snacks. Sometimes when I’m working, Michael surprises me with a small tray of cheese and crackers and water—an instant pick-me-up. At night, I like to keep dried figs by my bed, or an individual bag of SmartPop popcorn.
But the most important meal of the day—and my personal favorite—is breakfast. Look, I’m lucky. It’s no secret that Michael delivers my breakfast on a tray each morning. I sit in bed, in my beautiful room, with an exquisite arrangement of coffee (usually a skim latte), the breakfast dish du jour (steel-cut oatmeal, high-fiber cereal, or one of Michael’s special eggs), my daily lineup of newspapers, including the New York Times, the New York Post, the Financial Times, my iPad, and my iPhone. This is my time to reenter the world, to read the news and my emails, and to determine my goals for the day.
You don’t need a Michael of your own to make it happen (although it does help). Orchestrate your own pleasant awakening each day, even if it means getting up a little earlier. Set aside the time to have that good cup of coffee, to scan the headlines, and to eat something on pretty china. It can be cereal or a piece of toast (or how about one of those Krispy Kremes?), if you’re pressed for time. The point is to pamper yourself and to experience a mindful start to the new day. You may not be able to control anything that happens from this moment on, but you will feel fortified by a brief calm before the daily storm.
On days when you have time to indulge, try one of these classic breakfast dishes. At the moment, I’m loving Michael’s coddled egg, another throwback recipe that deserves a revival. To make this dish you need a special egg coddler, which is a porcelain cup with a lid. Royal Worcester, the china company that claims to have invented the dish in the nineteenth century, still makes lovely egg coddlers today.
Butter the inside of the egg coddler and metal lid. Break an egg into the cup. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Screw the lid firmly. Stand the egg coddler up to its neck in a pan of boiling water. Simmer for 7–8 minutes. Lift from water, open. And eat with a spoon.
I think a little exercise goes a long way. Do Southern women work out? When I think of hardbodies, I see Northerners setting their alarms for 5 a.m. and getting up in the dark to race off to the gym. You’ll never find me doing that, although I’ve always been athletic. When I was in school I played on a champion field hockey team, loved to ride horses, swam, and played tennis. We didn’t go to gyms to work out, we actually went out and did things. Movement was a part of our lives. I still have that approach to exercise today: of course, walking is the best thing we can do for ourselves. So keep it natural instead of overdoing it. I know young people who are getting joint replacements, whereas I—who never subjected myself to excessive exercise—have not been troubled by that…yet. We’ll see.
In my day, women never went outside unless they were made up to perfection. Today, women run around in their sweatsuits, with their faces au naturel, and their hair uncombed, and they look just ghastly. When you look like you’ve just been shot out of a cannon you can’t be attractive to the opposite sex, or any sex for that matter. But, before you can even think about when and how to enhance your appearance, you must follow the golden rule for aspiring Southern belles: stay out of the sun. My mother impressed upon me that I should never, ever bake in the sun, and that was at a time when young people covered themselves in baby oil and used reflectors for that crispy, brown, shake-and-bake look.
The rule is to wear sunblock at all times. One of the inventors of sunblock was a Southerner, a Floridian named Benjamin Green. We have him to thank for our first defense against wrinkles, freckles, and more serious skin conditions. Part of the reason I look younger than my years—or so I’ve been told—is that I scrupulously avoid the sun. Short of carrying a parasol (and what would be wrong with that?), I always protect my face and hands. Even when I go swimming, I do it at the end of the day, when there are no harsh rays. As a result, I have fewer wrinkles than my friends who are forty.
I’m happy being pale, but I fully endorse using makeup to work in concert with Mother Nature. When I was young, the one product we were allowed was a lipstick called Tangee. Its claim to fame was that it looked orange in the tube, but, magically, it changed to a pinkish color on the lips. I hear some places still have it in stock. It would be fun to try it now. And back then, all the girls used cake mascara. As I recall, we would spit on it, mix it with the brush, and apply it to our lashes. It sounds gross now, but it really worked and in a funny way felt very Parisian.
Makeup is important, but you need a light touch. You don’t want to look like the Whore of Babylon. In case you don’t know she is, the Whore of Babylon was “the mother of harlots and abominations of the Earth” in the Bible’s Book of Revelation. Apparently, she was a flashy, overdone sort, with tacky makeup and loud clothes—not someone you want to emulate. When I wear makeup, I like to use a soft pink lipstick—something like MAC’s Mineralize Rich Lipstick in “Be Fabulous,” with a touch of gloss, Chanel’s “Healthy Glow” foundation, and Charlotte Tilbury “Cheek to Chic” blush.
My favorite throwback beauty technique is curling my eyelashes. I started using an eyelash curler when I was in boarding school and I still do it every day. Always curl before you apply mascara for a natural, wide-eyed look.
These days, I am blessed with Karen Thornton, a fabulous makeup artist who does my face for the show, and I am the happy recipient of her best insider tips. She told me about my favorite, must-have-on-a-desert-island tool: the Beauty Blender, a sponge that creates a subtle, polished effect and makes me look nice and blurry around the edges. Even I can’t guess my age.
I have a proper dressing table, positioned in a place that gets good, natural light, where I keep my makeup and beauty supplies. It feels very “I enjoy being a girl” to sit down at a dressing table (preferably with a dressing drink). My daily supplies, such as pencils, camouflage sticks, mascara, and the like, are laid out on a silver tray. I keep my brushes in mint julep cups and I have them washed daily to avoid bacteria. I can say with certainty that my fingers never touch my face because that’s a surefire way to spread germs. Instead, I use pads, cotton balls, brushes, Q-tips—anything sterile.
I take off every stitch of makeup at night with Neutrogena facial wipes, Clinique Non-Oily Eye Make-Up Remover, a gentle face cleanser, and a few times a week I use a gentle exfoliant to get rid of dead skin cells. Then I moisturize and repeat the next day. I recommend having a daily routine. The more regularly you do something, the easier it is to remember to do it. But I believe that your skin care regime should be prescribed by a dermatologist—I have three: Dr. Marguerite Germain in Charleston; Dr. Dennis Gross in New York; and Dr. Harold Lancer in Los Angeles. A dermatologist can analyze your skin and recommend the right products for your skin type—think of skin care as being medical rather than cosmetic. And don’t forget to get a full-body exam once a year.
As for any other kinds of (ahem) “enhancements” to help turn back the clock…I’m game as long as they’re subtle improvements. Some plastic surgery can be a boon, but you don’t want to look as if you’ve been through a wind tunnel, where everything is stretched so tight you’re begging for slack. Cosmetic surgery and injections should not make a person look like a reject from the cast of La Cage aux Folles. And I’m all for trying new procedures. I called in Dr. Berger, our veterinarian, when Siegfried and Roy were having leg problems, and he offered to use his acupuncture needles to give me a minifacelift. I was enthusiastic…until he told me there could be no sex—or alcohol—for an hour after!
Lately I’ve started doing cryofacials, which involves going to the dermatologist and having liquid nitrogen vapors applied to my face and neck. The procedure stimulates collagen and decreases wrinkles. I brought Landon with me the last time I went because she was concerned about sun damage. It was a fun thing to do together.
I’m also a big believer in dental hygiene. If you are making an investment in your appearance, put your money where your mouth is. Clean, white teeth will always make you look pretty and young. It is so important to take care of your teeth. Explore straightening, bonding, whitening…anything you can do for a better smile. I practically live at the dentist’s office. I have a cleaning every three months.
One of my favorite indulgences is taking a relaxing bath before I go to bed. I’m fortunate to have a fireplace and a television in my bathroom, but there are other ways to create a luxurious spa experience. I light candles, fill the tub with water—not too hot, because it causes dry skin—and add a generous amount of Deep Sleep bath oil.
After a long soak, I dry off and apply Epicuren Discovery Orange Blossom After Bath moisturizer. My indulgences continue in the bedroom. Before I get into bed, I spray my pillows with “Sleep” pillow mist by Bath & Body Works. The scent is soothing and it covers all traces of dog treats (Chauncey, I’m speaking to you). I sleep on a silk pillowcase I obtained from my dermatologist. The Branché Charmeuse Case miraculously prevents wrinkles, preserves your hairstyle, and feels wonderful. My windows have curtains and blackout shades and I’ve been known to wear an eye mask. A good night’s sleep makes me look and feel younger.
I think that long hair is youthful and I’ve kept mine that way for decades, although there has been the occasional mishap. When I was a debutante, my grandmother decided a perm was what I needed. The fumes were like formaldehyde—not that I know what that smells like—and the end result was awful, like the bride of Frankenstein. I was totally undone by the whole experience. You can be sure there are no pictures of me at my deb party.
Since that debacle,[3] I’ve taken my cue from Truman Capote. He said that if a woman maintains the same hairstyle over the years, she will never age. I hope he’s right. I think this philosophy applies to hair color, too. If you were a brunette, stay with your natural color as long as you can remember it! Too many women drift into being blonde or redhead as they get older, when their skin tone is screaming for a more authentic shade. If you’re not a natural blonde, think twice about adding too many highlights; they can strip your hair and make it dry and brittle.
And don’t forget about your eyebrows: they frame your face and should be shaped properly (and tinted if they’re going gray). A well-defined arch can have the impact of a facelift, without the pain or the price! For all things eyebrow, Anastasia of Beverly Hills has every product you need to achieve perfect brows.
[1] Bovine: of, relating to, or affecting cattle.
[2] Faux pas: an embarrassing or tactless act or remark in a social situation.
[3] Debacle: a sudden and ignominious failure; a fiasco.