Annie Walton Doyle

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

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

Remember at the start of the year, when we all watched a teenager with a mouth full of Juvaderm bizarrely reclining in front of a fire that looks l

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

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 funny to think that sometimes I don’t have the energy to get off the couch, or to buy groceries, yet my face is constantly using said energy t

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

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

Not often am I willing to declare myself as any sort of spokeswoman, but I am happy to speak for all of us when I say: thank Baby J winter is endin

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."