Annie Walton Doyle

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

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

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!

The wonderful thing about knitting is that it combines mindfulness with mindlessness. You have to concentrate, sure, but you can easily lose yourself.

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

Lash stain: what the hell. Am I right?

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

Remember at the start of the year, when we all watched a teenager with a mouth full of Juvaderm bizarrely reclining in front of a fire that looks l

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.

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