Annie Walton Doyle

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

If there’s one thing that makes me deeply proud of my generation (apart from our general anti-Brexit sentiment) it’s the newfound omnipresence high

Companies — like, say, L'Oreal — wouldn’t just use the broad, vague, abstract concept of diversity (by hiring Munroe Bergdorf) to lure in customers... would they? But you have to remember — companies are about money-making first and foremost. Sometimes, they’re not really about much else.

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

In life, there’s not much I love more than a good bitch. I’d take a mean, hilarious person over a “nice” bland-y any day of the week.

Being a “strong” and “empowered” woman is so hot right now.

Do you have a good side? I definitely don’t have a preferred “side.” I am sometimes pictures of myself for my job, and I don’t know which side is better.

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

Take your makeup love to its logical conclusion via a sensory attack on all fronts. Smelling like old ladies' handbags and young ladies' dressing tables and powder puffs and lipstick bullets has never been so easy as it is right now. It’s the scent family I call "makeup perfume."

It’s official: I have bleached my hair to the point of no return. It can be bad: not cute and fluffy, but damaged and crazy.