Annie Walton Doyle

Writing my piece on the wonderful, amazing, superlative yet disappointingly evasive Seventeen Stay Time Foundation got me thinking.

Aside from knitting and prescribed medications, beauty products are the thing that helps me out the most during a bout of depression. Sound crazy? Read on.

Of all of the supposed beauty “problems” in the world, for me, roots are really the least “problematic.” In fact, I love mine dearly.

Let this idea appeal to your insubordinate nature: the world wants me to not like my face, so guess what? I’ve decided I like it. Take that, world!

It’s surely well known by now that the age of the heavily drawn on, perfectly angled eyebrow is coming to an end.

In life, there’s not much I love more than a good bitch. I’d take a mean, hilarious person over a “nice” bland-y any day of the week.

Those weird bendy rollers you’ve never used are actually a Hot Tip for adding texture to damaged hair.

In the aisles of a drugstore, one’s instinct is almost magpie-rial. Glitter! Neon! Caramel-scented!

Sometimes with skincare, it’s the satisfying science speak which lulls you into a state of security.