Annie Walton Doyle

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

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.

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!

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

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

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

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

You can’t fight it so embrace it: Fluffy winter hair.

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

It’s a prime example of what I’ve known all along: that the true crime interest and the niceness of a person are not mutually exclusive.