Annie Walton Doyle

Lash stain: what the hell. Am I right?

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

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.

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).

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

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

It’s official: I have bleached my hair to the point of no return. It can be bad: not cute and fluffy, but damaged and crazy.

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

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