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.

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

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

I love spending money like a total asshole as much as the next woman. But sometimes, a cheap thrill is the most thrilling thrill of all.

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.

There seems to be something about being a Millennial that is making me depressed. Our childhoods have left us particularly unprepared for the "real world."

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

Lash stain: what the hell. Am I right?

For a long time, I suspected that primer was a bit of a swizz. Makeup to go under your makeup, you say? Sounds very “Emperor’s New Clothes” to me.