December Birchbox

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I think I’m going to have to stop getting Birchbox. While a box of beauty surprises is oddly satisfying, after a year of getting them I now have eight thousand tiny samples of face masks and serums.

WHEN does one use a serum?? And I’m sure I’m supposed to be putting on face masks more often than I do (never).

In my mind I want to be that girl who skips around her apartment sipping rosé waiting for her mud mask to dry, her satin robe gliding off her newly dipped-in-lotion body. But the reality is I don’t wash my makeup off before bed. Yeah, I said it.

I guess the silver lining is that now my bathroom has a travel-size section, which is easily the best aisle of Walgreens anyway.

Just Let Me Love Britney

britneyI get it. Her public breakdown and love of going to Starbucks without a bra on makes her an easy target. And sure, she lip syncs.

Guess who doesn’t care? This bitch. Her body’s bangin’, her music is good, and when I went to her Vegas show (yes, I took the photo above) you know what she looked like? A god damn super star.

I’ve never seen a more amazing ass in my life. No joke, it was incredible.

 

Girl Talk: Hilary Duff

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Hilary. Duff’s. Instagram. It’s one thing to star in Lizzie McGuire, have a solid singing career, and turn into a best-selling author. It’s another thing entirely to one-up every other famous female in your social media game. Girl is killing it.

She posts picture after picture of Malibu beaches, an ADORABLE son, and super-blonde selfies that make me realize yes, I need to start wearing lipstick because it looks absolutely awesome.

I like it. I like it a lot.