shhhhharlotte said: Any recommendations for a natural looking mascara? I like Maybelline's Full 'n Soft, but it smudges like crazy on me.
Meet your best friend: CoverGirl Clump Crusher by LashBlast. It’s 7.99 or so at most drugstores and is the only mascara I’ve ever used that is actually buildable and natural. Try it in waterproof if you’re used to smudging. Or stop touching your face! Kidding. I’m doing it right now.
One coat of this flubber-colored tube makes you look like you have naturally thick lashes. 3 coats make you look like you’re wearing a coat of mascara. 5 coats and you’re lush and lovely (lush and lovely??? well isn’t this just a BEAUTY BLOG)! It’s my go-to mascara to take with me when I go on weekend trips, because you can really control the type of application you get from it. It’s also the only mascara I’ve had that doesn’t truly clump up when you add more mascara later. You know when you decide to “touch up your makeup” just for the fuck of it, even though you look fine? That always gets me spider clump lashes, but not with this little babe.
You won’t get BA BAM sex mascara eyes from this (but if you use it as a base coat, you can add one coat of another mascara to go from day to night eyes). It’s the Katie Holmes of mascara. Pretty. Next door. Batman saves it.
But holy shit do not get the brush in your eye cuz OMG the most hellfire.
However, if you’re looking for other natural mascaras, try Clinique Naturally Glossy or pretty much any kind from Neutrogena…and if you want super natural lashes, stay away from very black and try a black-brown.
Okay, last reminder that I have a new makeup blog. But the double-hustle gotta start somewhere!
Welcome to The Makeup Coven -
Yoooooooooo…I started a makeup blog, guys! It’s called themakeupcoven because, obviously.
I’ve wanted to start a supplement makeup blog for a long time, simply for the purposes of talking more about makeup without oversaturating The Frenemy with one paragraph reviews about stuff I like or hate. Now that I’m a work-from-home-lemming again, I figured now is the time!
I’ll still be doing sparse makeup posts on here, but head on over to the coven to get more in depth posts and reviews and hopefully, once my second book frenzy dies down, profesh videos.
OH! And I need you guys to help me get this shit off the ground:
Hit my ask box with any makeup related questions you might have or topics you want to see.
Let’s do this! I’m very excited for this project. Let’s all light up some sage and cleanse the new blog or whateva.
Do you feel antsy yet? Can you feel yourself getting older? Are you where you thought you would be?
I know the change real well and it starts to happen around 24. People go “quarter-life” and you feel almost nothing but “yeah, yeah, whatever” and “well, at least it’s not the word millenial” and then you start feeling different. Different meaning smarter, more stable, and deeply, deeply, philosophically panicked. I’m talking the real sweat. I’m talking the whole “I’ve finally realized I’m alive” and the whole “I’ve finally realized I die” and then, the desire to make use of that time in the best way you can.
When I was 21, all I wanted to do was grip onto the cliff and hold on for dear life. All I wanted was the basics: food, air, some solid ground. I’d take any hand that reached out for me. Shitty job, small apartment, tiny paycheck, toes in the water, feeling it all out. Your basic survival story. My Boy Scout badge grew with each small accomplishment: Cool it, mom! I can pay my bills now! I pay em every month! I remember to buy shampoo! I’m just your standard Errand Runner, looking to get home in time to make dinner.
At [21, 22, 23] I was learning how to be a real and functioning human being. I was learning how to balance a fucking checkbook, to stretch out a dollar, to keep my electric and gas running. I was learning how to budget and what to do with brussels sprouts and finding out how I wanted to love and how I wanted to have sex and laundry settings. I was finally throwing out old mascara but still wearing my college clothing. I worked hard to stay alive, to keep my head above the water, to buy a cold beer and feel full in a ratty t-shirt. I was searching to balance fear and contentment with just a little splash of secure.
Honestly, I didn’t ask for much. Nobody expects you to go forth confidently to your dreams at 22, no matter what they say at graduation.
Then, at 25, I found myself no longer at the edge. This surprised me, because I had been doing it for so long, but I guess I had used my body weight to hoist myself up onto steady ground. I’m alive.
It’s not perfect: I’m not rich, I’m still struggling to pay bills, and I could fall back to the edge at any moment, but I’ve relaxed a bit— fell into the rhythm of a frantic heartbeat and the uknown. I know that if I lose my apartment, I can find another one. I know to save money in case if I lose my job. I budget. I even treat myself, sometimes.
But all that relative, minute sense of safety does is make me hungry for more. I stay up late at night, wondering if I am doing my life right. Am I going to regret this? What am I missing out on? And of course, that elusive asshole of a question:
Getting real nervous in a good time of way. 200 Orchard in NYC. Starts at 7, ends at 10pm. Seriously can’t wait to meet and greet and chill and be pals with y’all.
Edit: Thanks to all who came out on Saturday night! It was a total, whiskey-soaked blast. I will be doing another one in the fall or winter, so if you missed it I hope to see you at the next meetup! XO
I am not so good at the hair. Makeup is definitely my thing. I feel confident about cat eyes and doing lipstick. Hair? Not so much. I have curly/wavy, thin hair that needs frequent washing. Also, I air dry it because I fucked up my hair so badly in high school from straightening it every day. And then I fucked it up again by dying it My Chemical Romance Black, Wendy’s Girl Red, Hot Topic Blood Red, and that chocolate cherry color that looks good on about 300 people in the whole world. So now I just use as little heat as possible on it to keep it healthy and purdy, save for special occasions when I do it up. Lack of blowdrying or curling means I need to have an arsenal of products at my disposal to make my hair not look like dog shit—with nothing but luck and the hands of the Mighty Hair God, who is definitely Jennifer Aniston or Mila Kunis. Side note—do you know how many times I’ve showed hair stylists Mila Kunis’ head before a hair cut? Do you know how many times I’ve been called Mila Kunis? Okay. Great. So here’s what I use: