Annie Walton Doyle

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

Self-care is a phrase so enthusiastically tossed about as of late that in many ways it has lost all meaning. In the same way “wellness” has gone, the concept now seems vague and fuzzy, somehow ineffable.

Who could have predicted at the turn of the century that one of the biggest (if not the biggest) trends in makeup would be contouring?

Lash stain: what the hell. Am I right?

Is there any makeup as synonymous with the twenty-teens as eyebrows?

In much the same way I feel about my eyebrows, I feel perpetual dissatisfaction with my lips.

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

The wonderful thing about knitting is that it combines mindfulness with mindlessness. You have to concentrate, sure, but you can easily lose yourself.

It’s a prime example of what I’ve known all along: that the true crime interest and the niceness of a person are not mutually exclusive.

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