A veteran magazine beauty editor/writer (and a member of the 40+ club), Genevieve Monsma created MediumBlonde to help Gen Xers and Baby Boomers age the way they want.
We’ve all read about choosing foundation or lipcolor formulas that are flattering to aging skin. But I discovered, while researching a More story that never made it to print (RIP More), that you might want to take skin texture (crepeyness, laxity) into account when picking an eye pencil too. Here, experts weigh in on which products will work best for you right now.
When we lived in New York, I was regimented about my Botox injections. In my thirties, I started getting them every six months. I believe in Botox’s wrinkle-prevention power, thus my early start. Once I entered my forties, I upped the frequency to every four months. However, since we’ve moved to Ann Arbor, but I’ve refused to give up my NYC dermatologist Neal Schultz, M.D, I’ve sdopted a whenever-I’m-in-New-York schedule. For most of the two years we’ve lived in Michigan, that’s allowed me to still get injected every four to five months. However, thanks to a busy summer and a hockey-filled fall, I’m now looking at seven months since I’ve seen Dr. Schultz—and forehead lines that are threatening to set up shop permanently.
I’ve already declared my devotion to denim-colored tips and toes. So it’s not surprising that my two favorite hues in Essie’s newest nail lacquer collections are blue too—albeit moodier, green-spiked takes on the tint.
Victoria Secret models, drag queens and Kardashians share a common trait worth copying: They can rock falsies.
I’m talking about lashes, people. And while I’m not suggesting we all apply fake fringe every day, I do think, as we age (and our lashes become thinner), becoming adept at glueing on extra flutter (or finding a makeup artist to do it for you) is time well spent.
Many makeup artists wax poetic about eyelid primer because it helps eye-shadow go on smoothly and stay put. I agree; those are good things. But the main reason I can’t live without lid primer is that it camouflages red, puffy eyes (today’s swollen, mottled lids are courtesy of staying up past my bedtime to watch last night's debate).
On days I don’t shampoo (or am having a bad hair day), I often default to wearing an unfussy knot at the nape of my neck. My inspiration is Carolyn Bessette Kennedy on her wedding day, though I probably come closer to Kelly Rutherford (the “mom” in Gossip Girl). This style is classic and chic and allows me to look polished when I don’t have the time (or patience) to do more to my hair.
I woke up one morning last winter with tiny bumps all over one eyelid. At first, I thought the smattering was just crumbly, pilling eye-shadow I’d neglected to remove the night before. But no, the bumps were definitely attached to me. And as I peered at them in the bathroom mirror, I suddenly realized what they were. Ugh: milia.
I know women who are proud of how long they can go between shampoos (four days, ten days, two weeks). They consider this a good thing because they’ve been told by experts that scaling back on sudsing keeps color from fading as quickly, cuts down on daily-blowdrying damage, and helps hair stay better hydrated because scalp oils don't get stripped daily. This is not wrong, BUT there is a big downside to this practice.
Prior to the demise of More Magazine, I was researching a story for the August issue on the most flattering makeup in your forties, fifties, sixties, etc. I figured the makeup artists I was interviewing would advise choosing a more hydrating foundation as you got deeper into menopause—or maybe they’d suggest sweeping on a brighter blush to counteract increased sallowness. What I wasn’t expecting was to hear this. . .
If you’ve ever tried Retin-A (or one of its many cousins: Renova, Avita, Tazorac, generic tretinoin, etc.), you know the usage downsides: redness, flaking, stinging. Some MDs will tell you to just push through the irritation period (and walk around with a flushed, flakey face for months)—or to wait thirty minutes after you cleanse to apply. However, I don’t know about you, but by the time I get around to washing my face at night, I'm beat. No way I’m delaying bed for another half hour.
Applying bronzer hardly seems like something that requires instructions. You sweep a big, fluffy brush over copper-colored powder. Dust it over your face. Done.
Not quite.
I believe in the confidence-boosting power of beauty products. I'm talking about the way wearing Chanel's black-red Vamp Nail Colour made you (okay, me) feel current/cooler/chicer in the mid-1990s.
As I write this, my face is slathered in Fresh Vitamin Nectar Vibrancy Boosting Mask ($62; fresh.com).
As we age, there are some things we hope to increase: retirement savings, vacation time, wisdom. Makeup opacity? Not so much.
After the birth of my son, Heath, in my early thirties, gobs of my hair fell out; only some of it grew back. Thus, a year into motherhood, I became a client of Liz Cunnane, a trichologist (that's a U.K.-trained hair ‘doctor’) at the Philip Kingsley Trichology Clinic in New York City.
