Annie Walton Doyle

Self-care is a phrase so enthusiastically tossed about as of late that in many ways it has lost all meaning. In the same way “wellness” has gone, the concept now seems vague and fuzzy, somehow ineffable.

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

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

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

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.

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

Many criticize Geordie Shore as entertainment in its lowest form: fights, drinking, people falling over, nudity, swearing, and “bucking” (sexual intercourse). Yet, to me, it is so much more than that. As a fully qualified human woman, I can’t help myself analyzing the show through feminist-tinted glasses. The decisions and attitudes of the “family” represent, to me, a new kind of feminism.

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.