Annie Walton Doyle

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

Can you partake in the beauty industry — makeup, tutorials, magazines, and the oppressive standards they impose — and still feel good about your self-worth?

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!

Lash stain: what the hell. Am I right?

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

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."

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

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

Do you have a good side? I definitely don’t have a preferred “side.” I am sometimes pictures of myself for my job, and I don’t know which side is better.

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