Annie Walton Doyle

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

During such trying times, there is one trusty frenemy whose shadowy presence always sneaks back into my life. Benzoyl peroxide, I wish I knew how to quit you.

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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