Annie Walton Doyle

It’s official: I have bleached my hair to the point of no return. It can be bad: not cute and fluffy, but damaged and crazy.

I think it’s safe to say that I’m coming to the end of my blond

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

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

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

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).

On the difficult and important topic of highlighter, I’m torn.

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!

Inside everyone is a little bit of a Francophile, right? French things are just good and that’s that.

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