Latest news with #Noxzema
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Business
- Yahoo
Baltimore Sun Hall of Fame 2025: George L. Bunting Jr., exec and board leader
For a man who has been a high-flyer in the corporate world, George L. Bunting Jr. is extraordinarily down to earth, say those who know him. Bunting spent two decades expanding Hunt Valley-based Noxell Corp., the family company started by his grandfather, and then negotiated its sale to Procter & Gamble in a $1.3 billion merger. Since then, he has focused on applying his money, skills and connections to build up efforts to improve health care, education, religious understanding and the arts in Baltimore and across the nation. Bunting is the kind of person who notices everyone — 'the person who opens the door, the person who is easily overlooked,' said the Rev. Christopher Leighton, founding executive director for the Institute for Islamic, Christian, and Jewish Studies, a Towson-based nonprofit that aims to dismantle religious bias. 'No one is invisible to George's sight; there are no little people or insignificant people in George's approach to the world.' Born in Baltimore, Bunting grew up worshipping at the recently shuttered Shrine of the Sacred Heart in Mount Washington. He credits his upbringing with instilling values like honesty and trust. His worldview expanded while he attended Columbia Business School. It wasn't the marketing curriculum but his experience living at International House, home to students studying at various New York universities. Amid a 'melting pot of different disciplines,' Bunting hung out in Harlem, scarfed down late-night pizza, and had deep conversations with friends from Germany and Australia. 'I think I learned more living there than I actually did at business school,' he said of the now 101-year-old International House. 'That's where I began to realize the world is a lot bigger and there were different viewpoints.' Training as an Army reservist medic also fostered a service-oriented mindset. 'I think we should have [compulsory] national service,' he said. [It] doesn't have to be the military, could be the Peace Corps or other service, to bring everybody together at an early age from all different walks of life and backgrounds so we wouldn't have so much division today, perhaps.' Bunting hadn't set out to follow in his family's footsteps. 'My father never, never put any pressure on me about that,' he said, 'and I sort of gravitated toward it over time in my educational career.' Bunting returned home in 1966 as a product manager at Noxell Corp., famed for its Noxzema cleansing cream and other skin care products. He joined the board of directors, studied under his father as executive vice president, rose to become president and CEO, and finally, was named chairman and CEO. The company kept expanding — CoverGirl cosmetics grew into a large part of the business. But it still felt like a family to Bunting. 'It had a very excellent culture, which I inherited and nurtured along the way,' he said. 'Public companies today have changed, and there are different pressures, but it was almost fun, going to work, and we loved the products we sold.' Two years after Procter & Gamble's purchase, Bunting retired from business but kept his sleeves rolled up. In 1996, he oversaw the merger of the 'complicated' governing structures of the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine and the Johns Hopkins Health System Corporation into one unified Johns Hopkins Medicine board of trustees. Different priorities between the two entities were leading to conflicts, such as concerns that the hospital would dominate decision-making. Finding resolution was rewarding for Bunting. He's chairman of the board of trustees of the Abell Foundation, which has applied proceeds of the 1986 sale of The Baltimore Sun to improve educational, health and economic outcomes in Baltimore. President Robert C. Embry Jr. praised Bunting's brains, honesty and enthusiastic support for initiatives such as grant donations and lawsuits to promote equity — 'somewhat unusual' for foundations. 'He's very ethical and concerned about reducing the inequities in our society,' Embry said, recalling Bunting and the board's work to increase funding for Baltimore public schools. Bunting enjoys material trappings — his car collection formed the basis for the BHA Automobile Museum — but he can apply the blessings of wealth and access to more elevated realms. He's a lifetime trustee of the Institute of Islamic, Christian, Jewish Studies. Leighton recalled early efforts to raise an endowment for the institute, saying that Bunting's leadership, in part due to a substantial donation, challenged the community to step up by example. 'There was no way that I could go and knock on their doors and get any kind of reception,' he said of trying to drum up support. 'But when George knocked on the door and said, 'We'd like to meet with you and tell you about the work we're doing,' the response was, 'Well, if George Bunting is behind this venture, then we know it has integrity.'' 'I don't think he really knows or realizes just how powerful a force he is in doing good for others,' Leighton said. 'He just goes about that business as though it was the most natural thing in the world to do.' Have a news tip? Contact Natalie Jones at najones@ Age: 84 Hometown: Baltimore Current residence: Monkton Education: Loyola Blakefield; Loyola College; Columbia Business School, MBA in marketing Career highlights: Product manager, president, CEO and chairman of the Noxell Corp. Civic and charitable activities: Chairman of the board of trustees for the Abell Foundation in Baltimore; lifetime trustee of the Institute for Islamic, Christian, and Jewish Studies; trustee emeritus of Johns Hopkins Medicine and Johns Hopkins Health System; trustee emeritus of Maryland Institute College of Art; created the BHA Automobile Museum, a collection of classic cars Family: Married to Anne Bunting; three children; seven grandchildren
Yahoo
17-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
I've Spent Decades Perfecting My Skincare Routine — Then My 12-Year-Old Took Over And Snatched My Face (In A Good Way)
I've spent more time (and money) on skincare than on most major life decisions. In the '90s, I was a Noxzema warrior, drying my acne into submission with alcohol-soaked pads and slathering on drugstore foundation so thick I practically needed a putty knife to apply it. Fast-forward to my 40s: I've earned my Sephora Rouge status like a badge of honor and have tried every serum, tool, and buzzy skincare device that promises to reverse aging and erase the evidence of my 20s and 30s (okay, also my early 40s). My bathroom cabinet is the skincare equivalent of an Ulta and a mad scientist's love child. And then my 12-year-old daughter took over. She's in seventh grade, has watched approximately 1.2 million TikTok beauty tutorials, and is what I now refer to as my in-house esthetician. Her obsession with skincare began innocently enough. One gua sha stone and a YouTube rabbit hole later, and she's now running a full-service spa out of her bedroom. I'm the nightly client, and I can honestly tell you that it has changed me in ways that go beyond skin-deep. Every evening, she invites me in, turns on soothing spa music (courtesy of Spotify's "Zen Vibes" playlist), and gets to work. She lines up her serums and rollers like a tiny, very determined cosmetologist. My face is massaged with a jade roller she convinced her dad to buy "for optimal product absorption," which has been chilling in the mini-fridge. And yes, her dad is also a devoted client. He practically handed her his credit card and said, "Get whatever you need, doc." He sees it like this: there are only so many connection points a father can make with his tween daughter. Besides their dry sense of humor and unnaturally long eyelashes (I'm not in the least bit jealous), they don't have a whole lot in common at this stage in life. But bonding over nightly skincare rituals has become an opportunity for both of us to connect with her. During treatments, she'll gently scold her dad for skipping sunscreen and praise my "snatched jawline" with the confidence of a Real Housewife. She once told me I "give good face," and honestly, I'm not sure I've ever received a more affirming compliment. I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I'll take it. Here's what I didn't expect: letting my daughter take the skincare reins has taught me more than all the dermatologists and beauty influencers combined. Here are a few things I've learned along this skincare journey with my tween: Skincare is a form of self-respect. When I was her age, I was trying to fix my face. I was applying the harshest ingredients the drugstore sold to dampen the embarrassment of showing up to school with pimples. My daughter is trying to honor her face. She applies her serums like they're sacred and takes pride in the process, not because she's trying to look different, but because she likes herself. She's not fighting her skin; she's celebrating it. Watching her approach to skincare has made me kinder to my own reflection. The TikTok skincare academy is no joke. My daughter can pronounce "niacinamide" and explain the difference between chemical and physical exfoliants better than I can explain how to use the camera on my phone. She's basically a licensed esthetician, minus the license and the overhead costs. I can only imagine what she'll be capable of once she discovers the baking side of TikTok. Bonding with a tween is a rare and precious gift — even if it involves being lectured on hyaluronic acid. Let's be real: middle schoolers aren't exactly known for being chatty with their parents. But during our nightly skincare sessions, she opens up. We talk about school, friends, the occasional boy drama, and which facial mist gives the most "main character energy." It's become our little ritual. One I treasure more than any anti-aging serum. We're building confidence, one jade roller stroke at a time. My daughter has taught me that skincare isn't just about looking good. It's about feeling good, taking time for yourself, and believing you're worth the effort. That lesson landed better coming from her soft, lotion-slicked hands than from a $300 cream promising the same thing. When I browse the aisles at Sephora these days, I think less about how a product will erase the age spots from my face and more about how good it will feel to spend a few minutes each day nurturing the skin that has weathered the decades with me. Trends come and go, but sunscreen is eternal. I once thought tanning was a rite of passage. My daughter, horrified, has made it her mission to undo decades of sun sins. She treats sunscreen like a sacred pact with the future, and now I do too. If youth is wasted on the young, at least she's doing her best to preserve hers, and maybe save what's left of mine. Playfulness is a powerful anti-aging tool. Nothing smooths fine lines like laughing through a face mask with your kid. Watching her smear green goo on her cheeks while telling me about who 'might be dating but it's not official' is better than any LED light therapy. Somewhere between the serums and silliness, I remembered how good it feels to play. Taking care of yourself doesn't have to be a solo project. I used to see skincare as a private pursuit — a late-night battle between me and my pores. But letting someone else in, literally and emotionally, shifted everything. In her hands, skincare became a shared ritual. A space where vulnerability and Vitamin C coexist. And that, more than any product, has made me glow. These days, my skin glows not just because of the serums, but because of the hands that apply them. I get to lie back and be cared for by someone I once taught how to hold a spoon. Now she's teaching me how to love the face I have. If you had told 17-year-old me that one day my middle school daughter would be the skincare guru I never knew I needed, I would've laughed you out of the drugstore aisle. But here we are, and honestly, I've never felt more radiant. (Also, if anyone at Sephora corporate is reading this, she deserves her own affiliate code.)
Buzz Feed
17-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Buzz Feed
How My Child's Skincare Advice Changed Everything
I've spent more time (and money) on skincare than on most major life decisions. In the '90s, I was a Noxzema warrior, drying my acne into submission with alcohol-soaked pads and slathering on drugstore foundation so thick I practically needed a putty knife to apply it. Fast-forward to my 40s: I've earned my Sephora Rouge status like a badge of honor and have tried every serum, tool, and buzzy skincare device that promises to reverse aging and erase the evidence of my 20s and 30s (okay, also my early 40s). My bathroom cabinet is the skincare equivalent of an Ulta and a mad scientist's love child. And then my 12-year-old daughter took over. She's in seventh grade, has watched approximately 1.2 million TikTok beauty tutorials, and is what I now refer to as my in-house esthetician. Her obsession with skincare began innocently enough. One gua sha stone and a YouTube rabbit hole later, and she's now running a full-service spa out of her bedroom. I'm the nightly client, and I can honestly tell you that it has changed me in ways that go beyond skin-deep. Every evening, she invites me in, turns on soothing spa music (courtesy of Spotify's "Zen Vibes" playlist), and gets to work. She lines up her serums and rollers like a tiny, very determined cosmetologist. My face is massaged with a jade roller she convinced her dad to buy "for optimal product absorption," which has been chilling in the mini-fridge. And yes, her dad is also a devoted client. He practically handed her his credit card and said, "Get whatever you need, doc." He sees it like this: there are only so many connection points a father can make with his tween daughter. Besides their dry sense of humor and unnaturally long eyelashes (I'm not in the least bit jealous), they don't have a whole lot in common at this stage in life. But bonding over nightly skincare rituals has become an opportunity for both of us to connect with her. During treatments, she'll gently scold her dad for skipping sunscreen and praise my "snatched jawline" with the confidence of a Real Housewife. She once told me I "give good face," and honestly, I'm not sure I've ever received a more affirming compliment. I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I'll take it. Here's what I didn't expect: letting my daughter take the skincare reins has taught me more than all the dermatologists and beauty influencers combined. Here are a few things I've learned along this skincare journey with my tween: Skincare is a form of self-respect. When I was her age, I was trying to fix my face. I was applying the harshest ingredients the drugstore sold to dampen the embarrassment of showing up to school with pimples. My daughter is trying to honor her face. She applies her serums like they're sacred and takes pride in the process, not because she's trying to look different, but because she likes herself. She's not fighting her skin; she's celebrating it. Watching her approach to skincare has made me kinder to my own reflection. The TikTok skincare academy is no joke. My daughter can pronounce "niacinamide" and explain the difference between chemical and physical exfoliants better than I can explain how to use the camera on my phone. She's basically a licensed esthetician, minus the license and the overhead costs. I can only imagine what she'll be capable of once she discovers the baking side of TikTok. Bonding with a tween is a rare and precious gift — even if it involves being lectured on hyaluronic acid. Let's be real: middle schoolers aren't exactly known for being chatty with their parents. But during our nightly skincare sessions, she opens up. We talk about school, friends, the occasional boy drama, and which facial mist gives the most "main character energy." It's become our little ritual. One I treasure more than any anti-aging serum. We're building confidence, one jade roller stroke at a time. My daughter has taught me that skincare isn't just about looking good. It's about feeling good, taking time for yourself, and believing you're worth the effort. That lesson landed better coming from her soft, lotion-slicked hands than from a $300 cream promising the same thing. When I browse the aisles at Sephora these days, I think less about how a product will erase the age spots from my face and more about how good it will feel to spend a few minutes each day nurturing the skin that has weathered the decades with me. Trends come and go, but sunscreen is eternal. I once thought tanning was a rite of passage. My daughter, horrified, has made it her mission to undo decades of sun sins. She treats sunscreen like a sacred pact with the future, and now I do too. If youth is wasted on the young, at least she's doing her best to preserve hers, and maybe save what's left of mine. Playfulness is a powerful anti-aging tool. Nothing smooths fine lines like laughing through a face mask with your kid. Watching her smear green goo on her cheeks while telling me about who 'might be dating but it's not official' is better than any LED light therapy. Somewhere between the serums and silliness, I remembered how good it feels to play. Taking care of yourself doesn't have to be a solo project. I used to see skincare as a private pursuit — a late-night battle between me and my pores. But letting someone else in, literally and emotionally, shifted everything. In her hands, skincare became a shared ritual. A space where vulnerability and Vitamin C coexist. And that, more than any product, has made me glow. These days, my skin glows not just because of the serums, but because of the hands that apply them. I get to lie back and be cared for by someone I once taught how to hold a spoon. Now she's teaching me how to love the face I have. If you had told 17-year-old me that one day my middle school daughter would be the skincare guru I never knew I needed, I would've laughed you out of the drugstore aisle. But here we are, and honestly, I've never felt more radiant.
Buzz Feed
03-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Buzz Feed
Adults Over 40 Are Sharing The Products And Trends That Were All The Rage Back In The Day But Have Disappeared Entirely
Nostalgia is a hell of a drug, and as we all know, the trend cycle is cyclical. There are some things that need to come back ASAP, and some that, honestly, need to stay in the past. So, I decided to ask members of our very own BuzzFeed Community to share one trend from back in the day they remember clearly that has disappeared entirely. Their answers did not disappoint! Naturally, I had to share; here are some of the best! 1. "In the '70s, it was cool for young men to dress a little androgynous. From long hair (stylish feathered mullets) to low-rise jeans that were tight at the top (maybe too tight!) but with big bell bottoms, bracelets, earrings and jewelry, and serious platform shoes of course." "The style was influenced by the 'glitter rock' movement. I would have gotten into it, but there was no way my father was going to let that happen. I can't even use the words he used to describe that look. It was just fashion and fun." — saudade13 2. "AOL chatrooms!! We grew up hearing we could be anything we wanted to be when we grew up (LIES!), but in those chatrooms, you really could be whatever/whomever you wanted to be! " 3. "Perms. Curly hair was the rage in the '80s. 'Rods and paper' have not made a comeback." 4. "High-top Nikes or Adidas, unlaced at the top with jeans tucked in." 5. "Video game arcades." 6. "I miss sweaters that cover your butt. Stop the Crop!" 7. "Side parts." —Anonymous, 44 USA 8. "MTV showing videos all the time!" 9. "Outrageous brand shampoo. I've never found another shampoo that smelled as good. " —Anonymous, 51, Canada 10. "Padded shoulder fluffy sweaters with high rise skirts/acid wash jeans and short-haired women." 11. "Choker necklaces! Whether it be the old-school plastic goth kind you used to get out of a gumball machine, or something more preppy and fancy. Definitely a fashion we need to bring back. They can be classy or playful! " 13. "Washing my face with Noxzema. The big blue jar. It made your face tingle, so you knew it was working!" 14. "I loved going to discotheques back in the '70s. There were clubs that played disco music every night with a crowded floor. I loved the music, and I felt like the Dancing Queen out there gyrating to those fabulous tunes. I still do it to this day when a fabulous song is played." 15. "Passing handwritten letters in school. Writing to pals abroad. Receiving handwritten letters in the mail." 16. "Oh so many things I can think of, but a few favorites are LA Gear shoes, Sidekick Phones, CD walkmans, and body glitter!" 17. "In the '70s we wore pastel felt-like jeans called 'Dittos' — I had two pairs, one in yellow and one in pink!" —Anonymous, 65, Pasadena, CA 18. "Wearing hoop earrings and adding a key to dangle it!" 19. "White Rain hairspray." 20. "Oh man, in the late '80s and early '90s, girls wearing penny loafers (with actual pennies in them), with tight rolled cuff jeans. Horrible. We were in middle school and our shoes looked like we were middle-aged Wall Street bankers!" 21. "Body glitter! It wasn't a night out without spreading gel with literal glitter in it on your collarbone, cheekbones, etc." 22. "Platform shoes with goldfish in the heels. 😂" 23. "White go-go boots and black lipstick —1966." 24. "Swatch watches rocked. I remember their TV commercial in the '80s where a British guy said, 'You better swatch yourself!'" 25. "Roller skates you could attach to your shoes." "Also, Red Ryder BB guns." —Anonymous, 77, Rhode Island 26. "Color toilet paper. It was a reason for the pink and blue and yellow bathrooms." Porechenskaya / Getty Images/iStockphoto —Anonymous, 57, New Jersy 27. "Marijuana that didn't render me useless for the day." — hiddenraptor893 28. "Camo pants. When I was in junior high, all the cool boys had camo pants." PYMCA/Avalon / Universal Images Group via Getty Images "I tried to get my mom to buy me a pair, but for whatever reason, she wouldn't. In retrospect, probably for the best, since I would get roasted by my kids if they ever saw a picture of me wearing them." — parryboucher 29. "How about 8-tracks? I had a pickup full. I'd play one for a few weeks and then bam! My 8-track player ate it. As soon as I could get it out of the damn 8-track player, I'd throw it out the window. Not really, but I wanted to!" Heritage Images / National Motor Museum/Heritage Images via Getty Images — goldenorc84 30. "Aquanet. And banana clips." Fairfax Media Archives / Fairfax Media via Getty Images — carrieannsop "I'll never forget that Aquanet smell! And I loved banana clips. Also, my crimping iron. I still think I looked good with crimped hair and am waiting patiently for it to make a comeback." — heatherchristie1 31. "I miss buying CDs at large discount stores. You could discover amazing music that never got played on basic radio." ViktorBond / Getty Images "I don't miss being forced to wear foam rollers, having my hair permed every three to six months. THE SMELL!!!" — lauragipe23 32. "Being judged on how ripped/scuffed/dirty the heel of your bootcut jeans were (by heel, I mean the bottom of the leg at the back), back when it was the fashion to wear those really long jeans that were like non-goth versions of the industrial ones you'd get at Hot Topic and Torrid." Jena Ardell / Getty Images "The dirtier and more scuffed and damaged the heel of the pants, the cooler you were, apparently. I'm not confused that I don't see it anymore, as we've apparently now gone around to buying pants that are pre-ruined with holes in the knees and legs. I'm honestly just really confused as to why it was a trend in the first place. Was it a UK/Ireland thing only?!" — teeldubya "No, that was popular in the US. The way to top off your heel distressed (from actual wear and tear) jeans was with a pair of Doc Martens. I had the brown/coppery Mary Janes, and I still wear them sometimes. They're almost 30 years old but have held up. — heatherchristie1 33. "I miss the excitement of a much-anticipated album coming out and going to the store (shoutout to Sam Goody!) to get a copy of it." Ron Galella, Ltd. / Ron Galella Collection via Getty Images "I remember going to Target right after school to get NSYNC's album No Strings Attached, and it being a massive thrill. I camped out on the steps of the San Diego Sports Arena to get NSYNC concert tickets, too. People don't do stuff like that anymore, and it's sad." — awfulhouse65 34. "I badly miss my iPod, be it the Shuffle or the Nano. It was a miracle, the tiniest little piece of technology just filled with your favorite songs. It's just not the same using your phone to play music." Justin Sullivan / Getty Images — shyswan35 35. "When I was a college student in the late '70s/early '80s, we would write letters to our college friends over the summer because calling them would be too expensive. (Remember long-distance calls?)" Julian Yewdall / Getty Images "How I looked forward to writing and getting those handwritten letters in cursive that were written with such detail and usually lots of humor! I kept some of them and reread them recently. Like a trip back in time, lol." — magicalbubble58 So, what do you think? Do you remember these? I wanna hear your thoughts down below; or, feel free to talk about your own favorite trend of the past! Or, if you have something to say but prefer to stay anonymous, you can check out this anonymous comments form!
Yahoo
11-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Who Is Eric Dane's Wife? Rebecca Gayheart's Job & Kids
and his wife have sparked renewed interest after reports surfaced about the status of their long-standing separation. The former Grey's Anatomy star and the actress, who married in 2004, made headlines when Gayheart moved to dismiss their divorce filing after seven years apart. Here's a look at their relationship, co-parenting journey, and how their family dynamic evolved. Eric Dane is legally still married to actress Rebecca Gayheart. The couple wed in Las Vegas on October 29, 2004, but Gayheart filed for divorce in February 2018 after 14 years of marriage. The divorce was never finalized. They remained separated until March 2025, when Gayheart filed a petition to dismiss it. This means the marriage remains legally intact, and the pair are no longer pursuing separation through the courts. (via People) Rebecca Gayheart is an actress and former model. She began her career as a teen model in the 1980s and rose to fame as the face of Noxzema in the early 1990s. Gayheart transitioned into acting with roles in shows like Beverly Hills, 90210. She later appeared in films such as Scream 2 (1997), Urban Legend (1998), and Jawbreaker (1999). In 2005, she made her Broadway debut in Steel Magnolias. More recently, she appeared in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood in 2019. Eric Dane and Rebecca Gayheart have two daughters together. Their first daughter, Billie Beatrice Dane, was born on March 3, 2010, and their second daughter, Georgia Geraldine Dane, was born on December 28, 2011. (via US Weekly) The girls have occasionally appeared alongside their parents at public events, including red-carpet premieres. Reflecting on fatherhood, Dane once said, 'I never had a family, and now I do.' The post Who Is Eric Dane's Wife? Rebecca Gayheart's Job & Kids appeared first on - Movie Trailers, TV & Streaming News, and More.
