Monthly Faves: Handsex, Hot Doms, & a Happenstance Threesome

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I was very smitten with November. After coming back from a two-week stint overseas, I felt even more in love with my hometown of Toronto than I normally do – not to mention, extra appreciative of the friends I had left behind here. I spent a lot of this month laughing, talking, and/or having sex with people who are super important to me, and all of it felt cozy and affirming. ❤️ Here are some of the products, ideas, and experiences I loved most this month…

Sex toys

• Kenton from Funkit Toys sent me a prototype of his Signet, a textured ring meant to be worn on the fingers for added stimulation during handsex. I wore it out to some events and several people marveled at my “elegant” ring, which I found hilarious. I was excited to use it with my FWB, since he’s already one of the best fingerbangers I’ve ever encountered – and holy jeez, it was great. As soon as he started fucking me while wearing the Signet, my decibel level rapidly increased, such that he laughed and said, “Oh, you like that, huh?!” Indeed: the texture adds an intensity that makes fingerbanging – already a favorite act of mine – even more delicious. Go buy a Signet; you only have until December 9th to do so!

• I spent the first 8 days of the month in Europe with no sex toys at my disposal except the G-Spoon and Tango I’d impulsively decided to bring. When I’m at home, these are both “second-string” toys for me: I’ll reach for the G-Spoon if I’m not up to the task of accommodating the Double Trouble or Eleven‘s girth, or if I specifically want to fantasize about having my A-spot fingered, and I’ll grab the Tango if I want something more pinpoint than the Magic Wand or that I can take in the bath. But maaan, they sure did the trick. The easiest formula for getting me off is a rumbly clit vibe + an A-spot-focused dildo, and this combo totally wins by those criteria.

• I bought a Hole Punch Fluke in a gorgeous blue ombré colorway. My vagina is deeeeeply enamored. It’s moreso a vaginal plug than a dildo; I like keeping it inside me while I watch porn and hold a Magic Wand to my clit. It’s the laziest possible way to administer G-spot stimulation and I love it.

Fantasy fodder

• When I’m in the mood to watch a dominant lady boss people around and be mean to ’em – a rare craving for me, but a potent one when it does come up – my first choice is always Aiden Starr. She’s one of the best dirty-talkers in the biz and she follows through on her smack-talk. I like this clip of “mad scientist” Aiden studying Daisy Ducati’s ejaculations, and Aiden forcing an orgasm out of Sara Luvv with a clit pump and a wand vibe. Good gawd, lady’s got game.

• I mentioned this in my Double Trouble post, and probably repeatedly on Twitter, but I’m not over my usually-vanilla-but-sometimes-vaguely-dominant FWB telling me, “See what happens when you trust me?” after I took his advice to relax into pleasure and he made me come. He told me later that he keeps his dom-y dirty-talk infrequent, partly because it makes him nervous but partly because the effect is heightened if his quips are few and far between. Um, yup. Very yup.

Sexcetera

• Mid-month, I had some friends over for a get-together, and among them were my favorite fuckpal and a beautiful lady. The day before, Suz had dreamed we had a threesome, so it was on my mind… as was the fact that each of these people had independently told me they’d be down to threesome with the other one. I took them each aside to separately ask if they were feelin’ threesome-y, and they both said yes – so later that night, after my other guests had skedaddled, a magical threesome materialized in my bed. It involved marijuana, a double blowjob, fingerbanging, toy-ramming, ample use of the Magic Wand Rechargeable, and lots of giggly makeouts wherein me and Suz kept squealing “You’re so pretty!” at each other. Overall: fantastic.

• Remember earlier this month when I told you all about how weed makes sex better for me? Yeah, I really practiced what I preach this month. At one point, my FWB and I got super high and he did stuff to my nipples with his hands and mouth, and I actually felt like I was sailing out of my body and into the astral plane from the sheer ecstasy of it. “That was hot,” he told me afterward. Yes, it certainly was.

• Some of my work elsewhere this month: I enthused about temperature play and ranted about buying partners sex toys for Ignite. I have a column about the decline of PIV in the latest issue of This. And on our podcast, Bex and I talked about handsex, PIV, butt stuff, and sexting. (Are you subscribed to our show yet?!)

Femme stuff

• I wanted to buy something glamorous while in Italy (’cause “When in Rome”!), so I stopped into a Sephora and picked up Armani Rouge d’Armani lipstick in “Lucky Red.” It’s the exact kind of red I like best: classic, cool-toned, and creamy but not glossy. The magnetic-closure tube makes me feel like a futuristic megababe, and the shade itself is a hot pop of confidence. I loooove it.

• When I’m feeling sartorially uninspired, I like dressing with a particular character or occasion in mind. When I went to an Andy Shauf show this month, I dressed like a navel-gazing hipster so I’d fit in with his crowd. When depression made it hard for me to get out of bed on American Thanksgiving weekend, Bex sent me a picture of them in their fancy family dinner outfit and told me to wear what I’d wear if I was going to their dinner with them. Other recent “costumes” include “hot grown-up Wednesday Addams,” witchy goth babe, and “butch greaser.” Hey, whatever works.

• I’ve been wearing my hair very curly lately (see also, and also, and also). My hair is naturally wavy, but a little wizardry with DevaCurl gel and a Turbie Twist can kick it up to eleven. Having giant hair makes me feel powerful, and I dig it.

Little things

This guide to helping a partner who’s having an anxiety meltdown (potential suitors, take note!). Putting lipstick on my five-year-old cousin at her request. The extreme peacefulness of the Ġgantija ruins. Curvy-lady statuettes. Hazelnut gelato, tiramisu, and cacio e pepe. Artistic advice from people I respect. My friend Lilly’s post about the BlogSquad. My SAD lamp. Going clothes shopping with hot friends and gasping dramatically over how gorgeous they look. Dancing to the Elwins in a dim basement with a new friend. Crackin’ jokes with my ex in a blessedly not-awkward way. “I’d die if I saw you; I’d die if I didn’t see you there.” Friends who happily accept my introvert-y proclivities. Making sweet potato risotto while listening to The Adventure Zone. Meeting a guy with swoopy hair at a party and telling him he looked like a Pokémon villain. Intoxicated BJs. Getting sex toys in the mail (always). Touch the Skyrim. Laughin’ it up with Brent and a bunch of nerds at a Use Your Words playtest. Makin’ New Year’s Eve plans with some babes I adore. Telling stories at TMSG (ideally when the people the story’s about are sitting in the front row and giggling at me). Sleeping At Last’s Atlas: Year One and his new Christmas album. My FWB doing a spot-on impression of my sex noises for my amusement.

What were your fave sexy thingz this month, babes?

Strange Self-Care in a Time of Terror

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The day after the election, like many of you, I couldn’t get out of bed. I couldn’t wash the previous night’s tear-streaked eyeliner off my face, or brush my teeth, or get dressed.

What I could do, and what I did do, was as follows: I put on some lipstick, watched YouTube videos and blowjob porn, and cried.

Self-care – or coping, because sometimes they are one and the same – is so unique from person to person. What’s comforting to you might be scary or weird to me, and vice versa. But with that caveat, here are some things I’ve been doing to take care of myself during what feels like a global depressive spell. I hope some of these suggestions help you, or at least inspire you to do what you can do for yourself.

img_5056Lipstick. If you ever see me wearing just lipstick and no other makeup, you’ll know I’m either feeling minimalistic in a French-starlet kind of way, or I’m depressed. It’s the easiest cosmetic to slick on when I barely have the emotional energy to look in a mirror. It doesn’t require the patience of liquid eyeliner, the precision of eyebrow pencil, the fastidiousness of foundation. It’s a simple, quick burst of color. It signals to my body and my brain that I am beginning my day, even if my pajamas and unbrushed hair say otherwise.

Mundane activities. If I can manage to get out of bed when depressed, I may be able to (slowly) work up to cleaning, doing laundry, or other boring day-to-day tasks. They are small and not terribly significant in the grand scheme of things, but they are something I can do, and it feels good to be able to do something when you’re depressed. My friend Sarah likes to bake, for similar reasons; she says doing something with her hands feels useful when depression makes it hard for her to move her body a lot. The other day I went to the mall with a friend because he needed to return a shirt he’d bought, and it was the sweetest banal respite. Sometimes going grocery shopping or stepping out for a coffee feels oddly affirming when I’m depressed. It’s okay to do small things when you can’t manage the big ones.

lBlowjob porn. I’m aware that this is unconventional, but that’s the point of this post, after all. While watching Heather Harmon porn in a weed-induced stupor the other day, I became aware that it was calming me down and comforting me. Part of that is simply that her porn is familiar to me; I know the rhythms and features of it, the noises I can expect from her husband Jim, the predictable cumshot at the end. And blowjobs are, historically, a calming activity for me. The love between Heather and Jim really comes through (no pun intended!) in their videos, and that helps, too. There is something so sweet and simple about a loving blowjob. When Heather does it, it is a gift without expectations of reciprocation. It is a pure expression of affection. In a world that feels cold and heartless, it can be nice to remember that there are still people who love each other that selflessly, somewhere; that there are still people who want to see their loved ones experience pleasure for pleasure’s sake.

Funny podcasts. I sing the praises of the McElroy brothers at any given opportunity. Their humor is goofy, fresh, and relentlessly kind. Whether I’m puzzling through advice questions with the brothers on MBMBaM, immersing myself in the fantasy world they’ve built in The Adventure Zone, or laughing til I cry at the weird creations of Monster Factory, I’m hardly thinking about my problems or worries when I’m mired in a McElroy show. It’s not hyperbole to say that these boys may have saved my life on many occasions.

3647718646_7d503c3a99_oMaking music. My songs are predominantly about romantic rejections and unrequited love – phenomena that feel huge when they’re happening to you, but pale in comparison to, say, the impending threat of a global economic collapse and the xenophobic mass ejection of immigrants. When the big things feel too scary to contemplate, it can help to whine about the small things for a while. And if perfectionism doesn’t make your anxiety worse, it can give you a concrete task to work on when the world’s issues feel unsolvable. I showed my friend Brent a song I wrote recently, and he – a seasoned songwriting teacher – gave me detailed notes about structure, syllables, melody and arrangement. Working toward perfection, even within the small world of a single song, felt fuelling when I would’ve otherwise been crushed by the weight of the global problems I cannot solve.

Scary media. Stephen King novels, American Horror Story, bad slasher films on Netflix – whatever works. There is some evidence that horror movies alleviate anxiety for some of us, and I’ve definitely experienced that. It’s comforting to feel that there is an actual, concrete reason for your fear, instead of just letting your nonspecific dread run rampant. And when the story resolves, some of your terror might, too. For similar reasons, my friend Sarah says reading erotica helps her anxiety. Don’t judge yourself for the seemingly strange self-care strategies you employ. If it works, it’s worth doing.

Marijuana. Some would say it’s not healthy to rely on substances to get you through tough times. I say that sometimes substances are the only things that can get you through and that may not be ideal but it’s still okay. Weed blurs my brain a little, forcing me to think one thought at a time instead of losing myself in worry. And it also reawakens my libido even at the unsexiest of times (more on that in a post coming out on Monday), enabling me to masturbate when I otherwise would’ve been too depressed to do so. Masturbation can be, for me, an important medicine, flooding my body with uplifting neurotransmitters and re-affirming my love for myself, so any impetus to do it more often is a good thing.

What are your unconventional self-care methods?

 

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The Unladylike Project, Part 1: Severe Beauty

img_4063I have poured too many hours of my life into worrying about what men think of me. I try not to think too hard about this. Because if I really knew how many hours I’ve spent, how many tears and how much sweat I’ve shed, wanting men to think I’m pretty and fun and attractive… If I really knew how much of my energy has gone into that one singular, reductive, arguably unimportant goal… I think I’d probably have some kind of breakdown.

Look, I love men. Many of my favorite people are men, and many of my favorite days or hours or moments in my life have been spent with men. But the fact is, for all my pontificating about self-love and being happy on your own, I put an awful lot of stock into what men think of me. Our shallow, patriarchal culture is adamant that women’s value hinges on our ability to attract a man, and I’ve bought into that myth hook, line and sinker.

So in an effort to shake myself loose of those chauvinistic shackles, I’m starting a series called The Unladylike Project. In each instalment, I’ll challenge one of the dogmatic beliefs I hold about needing to seem “ladylike” and attractive to men. ‘Cause fuck dogma. I’ll live how I want to, regardless of what men think.

img_4064First up: “severe” beauty. I started thinking about this when my friend Sarah coined the term #SpookyFemme to describe her aesthetic: intense eyebrows, dark-colored clothes, and (most notably) dark lipstick. It’s a style I admire enormously, for its unapologetic boldness and – yes – severity. But on my own face and in my own life, I struggle to rock that spooky-stern look. It just feels like… too much. Too much of a statement, too attention-grabbing, too cyborg-like and not “feminine” enough. So for the most part, I stick to my safe pinks and reds.

When trying to pull apart my actual preferences from the patriarchal culture that shaped them, I find it helpful to ask myself: how would I do this differently if I was alone? Would I still attire myself like this, do my face like this? And in the case of makeup, I know that what I like and what I actually do are not always a perfect match. When I’m spending the whole day alone and experience an urge to play with makeup, most often I do some kind of wild, over-the-top look, with colorful eyeshadow and strange lipstick. It makes me feel powerful – but only in the absence of men who would drain the certainty of that power from me.

16692855009_06fa26a1e0_oLast year, a friend invited me to her spring equinox party. Having hung out with that friend’s crew of pals before, I knew it would be a group of mostly or exclusively LGBTQ women. Queer babes celebrating a witchy holiday with a bonfire, guided meditation, and intention-setting: it was a blast. But getting dressed for the event was almost as fun for me as the event itself, because I had a sense of sartorial freedom that I rarely experience anymore.

Because there were no cis men in attendance, I felt weirdly free to dress how I actually wanted to dress, instead of putting on a “cool girl” costume of sorts. I decided my aesthetic for the evening would be “lesbian witch” with an element of the extraterrestrial, and I chose my ensemble accordingly. A drapey purple cardigan topped off a plain white T-shirt and some obnoxiously bright floral-print leggings. I slipped on my chunky biker boots and hung a rose quartz point on a chain around my neck. As the finishing touch, I clipped two poufs of tulle into my hair, one green and one purple, one on each side of my head, like alien antennae.

I felt powerful in this outfit. My usually-soft femininity felt laser-sharp, aggressively focused, unapologetically intense. And I got compliments on my ensemble all night long.

I’m not a soft, delicate person inside; there’s no reason I should have to attire myself that way. A man who is intimidated by bold beauty will never be able to handle the deeper boldness lurking under my skin. Realistically, any partner who sticks around in my life will need to not only accept my assertiveness but adore it. So maybe I should start dressing more often in a way that shows off my inner dynamo.

It’s okay if some people think I look “weird” or “scary.” Those folks aren’t my key demographic, anyhow.

Monthly Faves: Pink Dildos, Pink Lips, & Pink Butts

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This was my sluttiest month to date, if you use “number of different sexual partners” as your metric for sluttiness, and I’m having a lot of complicated feelz about that. Cultural messages tell us promiscuity is the domain of the love-starved, fucked-up, and emotionally empty. Vindictive slut-shamers tell us promiscuity is unethical, hurtful, and harmful. It’s hard not to take those messages to heart.

But when I get real quiet and listen to my own feelings, I get a glimpse of the truth. Sure, sometimes my sluttiness is a ruse to bolster my self-esteem and fill my oft-depressed days… but mostly, it’s not. Mostly, my pursuit of sex is a joyful one, rooted in self-love, excitement, and freedom. I’m always safe, I’m not reckless, and I maintain my emotional integrity in sexual encounters as much as I can – so it’s a happy part of my life, generally. It’s easy to forget that, but writing my Monthly Faves post at the end of each month is a way of reminding myself just how much delight is brought into my life by sex, in all its many forms. Gratitude rewires your brain and I think it’s good for your sex life, too. So here are some of the sexy things I treasured most in August…

Sex toys

Eroscillator sent me their Top Deluxe model and my clit is smitten. (“Clitten,” you might say.) I’ve loved my standard-model Eroscillator for over four years (!!) so it feels good and right to have finally upgraded to the fancier, more powerful version. I’m going to review it soon, but suffice it to say: holy hot damn, this thing makes me come like a mofo.

• I special-ordered Godemiche‘s new Ambit dildo in glittery pink silicone, and it makes me deliriously happy. It’s my dream femme cock. I can’t wait for the day I get to slide it through the O-ring of my pink leather harness and fuck someone cute with my sparkly dick.

• All of us bloggers got plenty of freebies at Woodhull. One of the treats I went home with is a little bottle of Sliquid Soul, a natural lube that’s primarily made of coconut oil. It’ll never be a go-to lube for my partnered encounters because I usually use latex barriers (and oil breaks down latex), but for solo fun or non-penetrative pleasures, it’s soooo sensuous and lovely. I love oiling up a glass or steel dildo so it’ll slide into me frictionlessly, and I love how moisturized and happy my vulva feels afterward!

Fantasy fodder

• I am an all-purpose spanking enthusiast. Whether I’m topping or bottoming, there is just something electrically hot and exciting to me about the impact of hands or implements on gorgeous butts. Sometimes there’s not even a particularly sexual element; I can spank or be spanked by totally platonic friends and I still get some kind of emotional satisfaction out of it. I try not to question it too much – who can tell why we like what we like? Spanking’s just something I enjoy, for whatever reason, and I’m glad I get so many opportunities to participate in it. (Check out the bruises I gave Suz. Yeesh. That lady is a champ.)

• You know, I don’t think of myself as much of an exhibitionist or sexual thrill-seeker, but I had two different sexual encounters in public places this month and enjoyed ’em both a lot. On one occasion, I got kissed, held down, and slapped around by a dom-y partner in an alley after a drinks date. Just a couple days later, I was out with another partner at night, and we walked through a deserted parkette and got a little handsy… and then a little more-than-handsy, naw’m sayin’? I’m not into involving spectators nonconsensually in my sexytimes, so I would only ever do this if I was pretty certain no one would see – but with that caveat, public fucktimes can be a rare treat!

• My kinks have shifted and changed a lot over the years, but one of the things that consistently and abundantly turns me on is when a partner knows my body really well. Maybe it’s my sex-as-a-service kink, but fuck, I love it when someone knows exactly how to get me off. My current longest-running sexual relationship is with an FWB who I’ve known for a year, and his expert grasp of my body’s erogenous zones and rhythms is so hot in and of itself.

Sexcetera

• It was so much fun attending my first Woodhull Sexual Freedom Summit this year! I got to commune with several of my blogger pals, soak up sex-nerdy knowledge from smart folks galore, and feel like a renowned and respected maven. It feels so, so good to have a community of fellow sex bloggers to rely on for emotional support, professional advice, and commiseration. I’m so grateful that the internet has enabled me to connect with like-minded folks and build these friendships that matter so much to me. 💖

• I got to do a lot of sex-related writing on other websites this month! I wrote about introducing sex toys to a partner, alternative uses for sex toys, and buzzy vs. rumbly vibrations for Ignite, and I expounded on A-spot toys for Peepshow. (Did you know I’m always available for writing projects? Click here for more info!)

• I bit the bullet and launched a Patreon! Now you can support my work financially if you want to. Each reward level comes with perks – for example, for $1/month, you get to read regular behind-the-scenes journal entries about what’s going on in my life; for $5/month, you get to read each new blog post a day before it launches; and for $10/month, you get access to my Snapchat. Patreon is a lovely way for fans to support creators directly, so if my work is meaningful to you and you’ve got some money to chip in, I’d love for you to come join my crew!

Femme stuff

• Hot pink lipstick is a signature of sorts for me, and I’m always looking for that next life-changing pink. I recently bought Bourjois liquid lipstick in the shade “Pink Pong” (ugh, quelle terrible pun!) and it’s the exact type of cool-toned bright pink that gives me femme heart-eyes. Plus it smells good (sort of like pink grapefruit?) and the texture is smooth. Just don’t expect to be able to make out with someone or give a blowjob in this lipstick; whenever I try, I inevitably leave a pink residue all over my beau. (Luckily, I mostly date the kind of person who just finds this cute.)

• The beautiful Hedonish gave me an orangey-red Bobbi Brown lip pencil at Woodhull and I wore it obsessively for the rest of the trip (and then the rest of the month). I don’t normally like orangey lip shades on myself, but this one is weirdly flattering.

• My main femme obsession this month was my new tattoos! They make me so freakin’ happy every time I see them. At the time of writing, they’re still healing and a little itchy and sore, but I can tell they’re going to look incredible once the skin’s done regenerating. I used to be insecure about my chubby thighs, but it’s really hard for me to hate a part of my body that’s emblazoned with adorable pink bows and my favorite kinky term of endearment!

Little things

Lifestyles Tuxedo condoms, “the dressiest condoms on the market.” Woodhull inside jokes, like “Damn, he’s got a dick!” and #Dildough. Smoking weed in the parking lot like a bunch of teenage degenerates. Everything Joanna Thangiah makes. Meeting Nina Hartley. A smart, handsome boy calling me “a cool cute cinnamon roll.” The Adventure Zone, always. Coffee shop work-dates with friends. The feeling of accomplishment when I successfully navigate an airport by myself. Blogging on a plane. Stranger Things. My wonderfully kink-positive and poly-positive new therapist. Beer Doms. “I want to go somewhere quiet with you and just talk for hours.” Allison Moon’s inspirational talk on “self-publishing for radicals.” Tough-but-kind romantic advice from Epiphora and Lilly. Dungeons & Dragons. Carly Rae Jepsen. Goldilocks spankings. Mango smoothies. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because it’s a very good thing: your boobs are the boob equivalent of Mario in Mario Kart. They’re middle-of-the-road; they offer something for everyone.”

12 Days of Girly Juice: 12 Femme Essentials

12 Days of Girly Juice is a year-end celebration of all things girly, sexy, pleasurable and fun. Y’all know the kind of stuff I write about: sex, relationships, beauty, fashion, self-improvement. That’s the stuff I’ll be highlighting on this here blog, in big juicy year-end lists, for all of December. Today, we begin with femme goodness. Enjoy!

 

I have the type of personality where I get obsessed with things for short periods of time and then move on. That’s especially true when it comes to objects designed to be used up, upgraded and replaced, like beauty and fashion items. (Oh, dat consumerist escalator. It never stops!!)

That said, there are some femme obsessions that endured through most or all of my 2015. Here are some of them…

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Lip Products

If I ever stop thinking Bite lipstick in “Violet” is the most beautiful hot pink I’ve ever seen, you have my permission to check my pulse to make sure I’m not dead. Because I have a feeling I’ll be in love with this babe for a very long time.

Creamy, pigmented, and long-lasting, its formula is so gloriously on-point that I can throw it on and not worry about it for the rest of the night. And the shade – somewhere between fuchsia, purple, and Jem-and-the-Holograms neon pink – lights up my whole face and just makes me feel like me.

Another favorite lip hue this year was NARS Audacious lipstick in “Charlotte.” I stalked it on swatch sites, ogled it at Sephora, mercilessly Googled it, trawled its Instagram tag. I was a girl possessed. When I finally got my hands on it, it wasn’t quite all I had hoped – it gets crumbly and patchy if I dare to drink a coffee while wearing it, let alone eat an actual meal – but that color. Oh, that color. It is the sexy cranberry of my most glamorous Christmasy dreams. I dutifully reapply as needed, even if that’s 3 or 4 times a night, because it makes me feel like a starlet in a climactic, snowy love-confession scene.

My lipstick list would not be complete without MAC’s “Fashion Revival.” It came out in MAC’s limited-edition Matte Lip collection and I SNAPPED THAT SHIT UP because it is the most, most, most perfect fall/winter color. Described as a “deep raspberry,” it’s somehow a pink with all the drama and glamor of a great red. Fuck. Yes.

While TokyoMilk Salted Caramel Lip Elixir doesn’t lend any color to my lips, I had to include it in this list because it’s been my go-to “gonna-get-kissed-tonight” product since I got it. It’s thick and moisturizing without being sticky or gross, and of course, it tastes like caramel. I’ve known a lot of boys who refuse to kiss lipsticked ladies, but it’s hard to turn down kisses from someone who tastes this good.

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Other Makeup

Laura Mercier translucent loose setting powder was a recommendation from Jaclyn Hill and I’m sure glad I listened to her. I dust this on top of my foundation with a brush, or pat it on with a makeup sponge, and it keeps my face oil-free for… well, until I next wash my face, whenever that might be. As someone whose T-zone would ordinarily make a fantastic Slip ‘n’ Slide for tiny people, I have to say this is pretty damn impressive.

MAC Liquidlast eyeliner is the real deal. Cry, walk through a rainstorm, sweat, rub your eyes, get fucked with your face buried in a pillow, and the rest of your makeup may smear but your eyeliner will still look fresh as hell. It’s gloopy and hard to apply and the brush is weird, but it’s still the only eyeliner I’ll wear if I think I might be crying, sweating, and/or having sex. Which, let’s face it, is most days.

I used to be terrified of blush, because I blush a lot as is. Tarte Amazonian Clay blush in “Natural Beauty” converted me, though. It’s super pigmented and easy to blend, and the color really does look natural. It also straddles the line between pink and red, so I can pair it with just about any lipstick. Perrrrrf.

I would be remiss to leave Anastasia Dipbrow Pomade off this list. It’s such a daily staple for me, such a given and a must-have and a “duh!” part of my beauty routine, that I almost forgot it. But it is vital to my look. My eyebrows are like Samson’s hair: without ’em, I’m nothing. Thanks, Dipbrow, for another year of power brows.

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Clothing

I’m cheating a little by lumping all my polka-dot dresses into one item on this list. OH WELL. When I look back at what clothing made me feel reeeeal femme ‘n’ fabulous in 2015, these dresses take the cake. I bought blue and black ones at Loveless Boutique, a goldmine of rockabilly gorgeousness I serendipitously discovered next door to my hairdresser’s salon one day. The green one was a thrift-store score, and makes me feel like a Scooby Doo character. Too lovely!

I’ve been obsessed with thigh-high socks for a long time, but this was the year when I started wearing them on a regular basis. Whether rainbow-striped or sporty, from American Apparel or Sock Dreams or anywhere else, I just love them. And as a bonus: in my experience, wearing thigh-highs gets you a lot of sexual attention…!

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Jewelry

If you’ve seen me in person at a sex-related event in the past few months, I’ve probably forced you to look at my vulva ring. It’s a custom job from Catstache Accessories and I’m obsessed with it. There is nothing quite like the reaction I get from people when they realize it’s a vulva… and then when I tell them it’s my vulva, specifically.

My other fave accoutrement this year was my eyeball necklace. I spotted the pendant in a display case at the Lincoln City glass studio where we made our own glass dildos, and it was so strange that I just had to have it. I threaded it onto some white suede string and now it often holds a place of honor between my breasts, staring creepily back at anyone who dares to ogle me.

 

What were your favorite beauty-and-fashion items in 2015, my loves?