Annie Walton Doyle

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

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

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

Aside from knitting and prescribed medications, beauty products are the thing that helps me out the most during a bout of depression. Sound crazy? Read on.

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

Lash stain: what the hell. Am I right?

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.

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

Blurred lip lines make your mouth look plumper in a natural, non-Juvadermed way (pretty), plus makes it look like you’ve just been making out (further proof you are pretty — as if you needed it).

It’s funny to think that sometimes I don’t have the energy to get off the couch, or to buy groceries, yet my face is constantly using said energy t