Annie Walton Doyle

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.

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

Lash stain: what the hell. Am I right?

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

I think it’s safe to say that I’m coming to the end of my blond

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.

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

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!

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