A Lipcolor Adventurer's Holy Grail
I adore Sephora's app. Despite some glitches (like not being able to scroll through zoomed photos), it's a little workhorse. The "Pocket Contour Class" feature was super fun, and I loved the "Color Correcting Crash Course" quizzes. The best feature though (besides selling makeup, of course) is the "Virtual Artist," an amazing little interactive gem that allows the user to instantly see their own mug with thousands of different lip colors.
Duck lips galore, people!
I tried a color I know well (Nars Audacious in the color Grace) and although it did not give an entirely accurate read, it approximated it quite well, and more importantly, allowed me to compare Grace to very similar colors using a new and fabulously fun form factor for swatching.
For a new technology, it truly did a great job. Here are a few more pics showing Virtual Artist simulating various lipsticks on Mom in Mascara.
Duck lips galore, people!
Xx, Mom in Mascara
My skin was smoother than life in a week. So I went back for more. Which is why I look like a dartboard this week. Check with me in a few days.
Sometimes our vain or handsy self gets a grip on our heart. Greed is a nauseating and nasty (yet altogether naturally occasional) vice. But as a wise woman once said, “remember all those women on The Titanic who waved off the dessert cart.”
Jasmine Swann, a self-characterized "clean beauty junkie with a dirty past" has a special meaning of love too. Of course, hers isn't easy either.
Gifts are symbolic and it's in our human DNA to want to share with people we love. Psychologically speaking, gift giving is a deeply natural way of forming bonds.
Don nary a bracelet nor necklace... but enrobe your life in gemstones nonetheless (without the new-agey bull-crud).
Pretty girl gets a grown-up, natural bridal makeup transformation from Mom In Mascara.
beautyblender: I still really love you, but lowercase is soo goop circa 2008.
Forcing another person to do virtually anything is generally indicative of malice. Unless mom is forcing you to eat your veggies. (Also, an appearance by Brandi Glanville.)
The face cream was... well, really and truly, thickly, abundantly black. Strangely black. It was ambiguous in its inexplicably. It was wonderfully luxurious, and inexorably mysterious, but just too expensive for what you're really getting.