Annie Walton Doyle

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

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

Lash stain: what the hell. Am I right?

Inside everyone is a little bit of a Francophile, right? French things are just good and that’s that.

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

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

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

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

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

I love spending money like a total asshole as much as the next woman. But sometimes, a cheap thrill is the most thrilling thrill of all.