Annie Walton Doyle

Being a “strong” and “empowered” woman is so hot right now.

During such trying times, there is one trusty frenemy whose shadowy presence always sneaks back into my life. Benzoyl peroxide, I wish I knew how to quit you.

Blurred lip lines make your mouth look plumper in a natural, non-Juvadermed way (pretty), plus makes it look like you’ve just been making out (further proof you are pretty — as if you needed it).

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

Take your makeup love to its logical conclusion via a sensory attack on all fronts. Smelling like old ladies' handbags and young ladies' dressing tables and powder puffs and lipstick bullets has never been so easy as it is right now. It’s the scent family I call "makeup perfume."

My struggles with eyebrows have been well documented over the years.

As someone with a longstanding and deep love of a shine-face, powder blush has always been somewhat of a problem area for me.

Remember your first foray into the makeup world? Everything was more fun then. Colors were chosen in a magpie-like fashion.

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.

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.