Annie Walton Doyle

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

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

Not often am I willing to declare myself as any sort of spokeswoman, but I am happy to speak for all of us when I say: thank Baby J winter is endin

Many criticize Geordie Shore as entertainment in its lowest form: fights, drinking, people falling over, nudity, swearing, and “bucking” (sexual intercourse). Yet, to me, it is so much more than that. As a fully qualified human woman, I can’t help myself analyzing the show through feminist-tinted glasses. The decisions and attitudes of the “family” represent, to me, a new kind of feminism.

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!