Tag Archives: Betty

The Struggle of Self-Expression

Betty turned 10 on Monday and it hit me hard. In part, because I can’t seem to forget her cancer diagnosis despite her spryness, but also because I’m 10 years older, too. Ten years ago I didn’t know that I hadn’t yet figured out how to be a person in the world. Ten years ago I was blissful with naivety. Ten years ago my Betty was a puppy.

Here’s the thing: I feel like my mid-thirties are coming down on me with force and erasing all of that feel good mojo that kicks in around 32. Un-f*cking-stoppable is how I felt. I’m convinced that 32 is a woman’s power year, though I hear that our 40s bring a new sense of IDGAF that sounds pretty legit.

I was listening to Forever 35, my new favorite beauty-ish podcast, and Kate, one of the hosts, made a comment about finally accepting herself at age 38. I’m paraphrasing, but at some point, she realized that you just have to be good with where you are, your weight, your body, yourself. If you’re always striving for something else, are you ever happy?  Where does that end?

This has been on my mind a ton lately.

Do I wish I was more motivated to work out? Yes. Do I wish I maintained a healthier ratio of pizza vs veggies? Of course. Those things are constant scales of struggle. But that’s not my rub.

The issue is that I feel like I’m losing my voice. My ability to coherently express my needs, my wants, my fears. Especially that last one. I’m scared to lose (hi, dog cancer), to take risks and to own my failures and accomplishments.

You see, I tend to get quiet when there’s a lot of noise. Literal and figurative kinds. I am completely overwhelmed at the moment by the endless feed of voices. The captivating and the ordinary. The hateful and the admirable. The irritating. The misleading. The well-intended. It’s all just, I don’t know, too much.

So I find myself retreating.

How have I let my sense of self be altered by the exhaustive supply of information? My voice has been a swirl of thoughts in my head, never quite landing where I intend them to. Even my journal writing has been timid. Withholding there is a real snooze. I’m boring myself!!

I’m second guessing self-expression and I fear that’s the first step in forgetting who you are and what you stand for.

I’ve spent the better part of the past several months trying to get my head around what to do about it.

For starters, post this.

I’ll also probably retreat some more. Maybe take a social break. Perhaps take some new vitamins. I’m not entirely sure. But I do know that nothing is ever just one thing. If noise is crowding me, it’s probably because I’m feeling a little lost. And I say ‘if’ and ‘probably’ when I mean ‘in fact’ and ‘definitely.’

Doodle Your Face Off

Clinique Chubby Doodle

I have an audience when I’m doing my makeup. There are usually two eyes staring intently at my every move. It’s intense, sure, but I like to think of Betty (my Boston Terrier) as my sidekick. After all, I did teach her the “get pretty” command. Oh you don’t know about that one? It’s when your dog crawls into your lap and gets into a cozy position on her back so that she can get nails clipped and buffed. I am not even kidding.  I’ll have to Snapchat it sometime. She’s such a special little pup.

I’m sure I’ve given Betty some entertainment lately. I’ve been drawing and doodling on my face like a kid who just discovered crayons with the new Clinique Chubby in the Nude Foundation Stick.

Clinique Chubby Foundation

Clinique Chubby Stick

It’s the newest member of the Chubby posse. You know the crew, twist up pencils (that you don’t have to sharpen!) for lips, cheeks, eyes, even contour and highlight. It makes so much sense that there is a Chubby Foundation Stick now. I’m here to officially tell you that it is awesome.  It covers what I need it to – lately a blemish on my cheek that I absolutely cannot ditch – and gives skin a healthy brightened look. It all blends in so evenly, no matter how you doodle. My skin adapts to a few shades but right now my best match is Intense Ivory.

I’ve got to say, it’s pretty liberating to color all over your face. And I’ve been getting rather artistic lately.

Clinique Chubby Doodle

There’s the Curious Kitty. I have permanent red nose so this technique, which brightens your eyes when blended, works great for me. Even before I started Doodling, I placed makeup here on my nose. Way more fun to draw Whiskers and look at your dog to see if she identifies.

Clinique Chubby Doodle Foundation

How about Dollface? It can be a way to define cheekbones. After blending in, I’ll grab the Chubby Highlight and draw a line right above and across the cheekbone. Instant pop and my stubborn cheek blemish is safely concealed by my doodle.

Clinique Foundation Doodle

Here’s Tick Tock Clock. Doodle four lines at 12, 3, 6 and 9 o’clock for sheer coverage. When I’m having a jump for joy good skin day, this is all I need.

Clinique Chubby Stick Makeup

One morning when I was feeling really romantic, I also scribbled my boyfriend’s name on my forehead. It’s only three letters so it was actually really effective placement. It’s the makeup equivalent of putting his initials in a heart.

After doodling, I used Amp’d Up Apple on cheeks and Mighty Mimosa on lips. And lots and lots of mascara.

Photos by Rachel Dickens

This post was sponsored by Clinique. Thanks to Clinique for giving me some Doodling ideas – the artwork, results and opinions are all mine!

Puppy Dog Eyes

Clinique Chubby Lash

I have a special affection for Clinique. It’s one of the few brands that stirs up all sorts of beauty nostalgia but also keeps me excited in a modern way. I was using Clinique’s cake liner before I even got my driver’s license. I’m aware that isn’t usually how a girl’s journey with eyeliner starts but I like to think I was advanced for my age. Clinique still manages to get me jazzed to put on eyeliner. I’ve been experimenting with the new Skinny Stick and changing things up. Subtly, but noticeably. I’ve taken my go-to modified cat eye (I refer to it as the kitten) and gone puppy. That is, instead of flicking up and out for that wing effect you flick downward. I’m not mad at this baby animal terminology, I’ll tell ya that much.


I read all about puppy eyeliner on The Wink and figured sweet big puppy dog eyes could be a look I’d get behind. Plus, I think I’m already starting to resemble my Boston Terrier. It’s clear to me that we already share similar behavioral traits. Seriously, Betty thinks when I tell her to sit that I’m really trying to play and goes off in search of every toy she owns. She is a selective listener to the extreme. So, no one is more surprised than me when I ask her to “come get pretty” she climbs directly into my lap, onto her back and drapes a paw in my direction to signal that I should start clipping her nails. Guys, my dog responds to a mani/pedi command!


Have you ever seen those photo roundups promising “people who look just like their dog”? They’re total clickbait but always so spot on. I might not be far off. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing – Betty can pretty much get anything she wants with her big beautiful eyes.

I took the Skinny Stick in the deepest black shade and smudged it into the lash line, a little imperfectly. Then, I retraced the line with liquid liner to give it more pop, staying very close to my lash line. Finished it off going against my instinct and did not flick it out and up. Puppy eyes in full effect! I had to do this with my eye open. You’ll find it will look a little odd if you do it with your eyes closed, depending on your eye shape. I finished it with the Chubby Lash Fattening Mascara which – holy cow – gives lashes crazy volume. The oversized brush is much appreciated by me and really saturates your lashes with intense color. Black is classic (a.k.a. ‘jet’ in Clinique land) but I’m most excited by the Black Honey variation, which I hear is limited. Hopefully that changes because we all know how that berry hue can stand the test of time. Both the Skinny Stick and Chubby Lash get an A++ from me.

OK, I’m off to go take another selfie with Betty now…she is so demanding!