Annie Walton Doyle

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

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

In the aisles of a drugstore, one’s instinct is almost magpie-rial. Glitter! Neon! Caramel-scented!

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

Being a Drag Queen isn't one-size-fits-all femininity. Not all real life women are glamorous and fabulous at all times, nor should we feel we have to be.

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."

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.

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

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