Annie Walton Doyle

During such trying times, there is one trusty frenemy whose shadowy presence always sneaks back into my life. Benzoyl peroxide, I wish I knew how to quit you.

It’s surely well known by now that the age of the heavily drawn on, perfectly angled eyebrow is coming to an end.

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).

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

Lash stain: what the hell. Am I right?

Aside from knitting and prescribed medications, beauty products are the thing that helps me out the most during a bout of depression. Sound crazy? Read on.

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

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

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