Things I’m Going to Put On My Face (For Science): Lime Crime Velvetines

Things I'm Going to Put on My Face (For Science)

Ah, Valentine’s Day—what better time to try out a potentially kiss-proof lipstick than on a day where chocolate, decadent meals, and smooches abound?

We had a reservation for a four-course fondue dinner in Portland, so I figured it was an excellent opportunity to try out February’s pick: Lime Crime’s Velvetines in the shade Red Velvet.

Test subject #2

People rave about this liquid lipstick and its amazing formula. It’s perfectly soft while maintaining a chic matte finish. It has a cult-like following. And the brand is vegan/cruelty-free as well.

It applies so smoothly and doesn’t even feel like you’re wearing anything on your lips. It dries within seconds after application (unlike the Provocalips) and it has a rather pleasant smell. When blotting after application, barely any residue is left on the tissue. A good sign indeed.

I wore it around the house/while running errands all day, and hardly had to touch it up before we left for dinner. It survived a messy lunch consisting of a tuna melt, tomato soup, and a couple sticks of Crazy Bread from Little Caesar’s.

Yes, even my clothing is lipstick themed.

The only faults I found with this product:

  • It does dry your lips out after a few hours, even with a prior application of lip balm (though not nearly as bad as the Sephora matte lip creams, which I love dearly and am willing to suffer for their beauty).
  • It feathers/bleeds after a few hours—even with a lip liner.
  • Though the product itself is kiss-proof and transfer-proof, lip liner is not, and that left an odd line on J.’s face.
    • Does transfer-proof lip liner exist? Enquiring minds need to know.
      • excluding clear lip liners, because a girl’s gotta have some lines to color between.

And now for the unflattering after picture.

Four courses, two drinks, and some unflattering light later…

You can really see how much it bled out (not in a ritualistic sacrifice way) from the nice, crisp lines I started out with. Not attractive.

Ahem. Now that that’s out of the way…

I also tried a new-to-me product in combination with the Velvetines the following day: Too Faced’s Lip Insurance, which is a lipstick primer that is available in both matte and glossy finishes.

I purchased the glossy one because Sephora didn’t have any matte ones in stock (thinking it couldn’t possibly make that much of a difference) and it was a huge mistake.

The Antichrist of lip products.

Though it does boost color and reduce feathering significantly, it leaves your lips uncomfortably sticky (not gloopy) and the combination makes your lipstick transfer way more than it normally would. However, strangely, the color stays just as vibrant even with such a profound amount of transfer. Maybe with some sort of setting spray/powder it would have stayed on better. Either way, it should not feel like I’m wearing glue on my face.

But at least the packaging is pretty? And it’s probably useful for situations that don’t require objects coming into contact with your lips. Like, if you never eat.

Eventually I’d like to try the matte version because you apparently apply it on top of your lipstick, which is opposite of the glossy one and doesn’t make much sense. I mean, “prime” implies you’re prepping your lips with it, not setting them. Riddle me that.

Overall, I liked the Lime Crime Velvetines a lot. I’ve even worn it a few times since the initial test and forgot I was wearing any lipstick at all—that’s how lightweight it is. However, I didn’t like that my lips felt they were peeling by the end of the day.

I was sneaky and ordered the lipstick from eBay for $13 (rather than $20 from the Lime Crime site), so I don’t feel like I wasted my money or anything. Unlike the Provocalips, I’ll continue to wear this one on as much of a regular basis that a collection of 50+ lipsticks allows.

Our list now looks like this:

Pop in next month, when I’m planning on testing the Revlon ColorStay Ultimate Liquid Lipstick!  Smell ya later! 💋


You Probably Hate What I’m Wearing: Denim Vests



You probably hate what I’m wearing. I wear Halloween shirts year-round and mismatched holiday socks on a regular basis because I firmly believe matching socks is a waste of my time. But that’s only part of the picture.

You probably hate what I’m wearing because it’s not sleek and put-together. It’s raw and real and makes people uncomfortable. It makes me look like I’m the kind of person who doesn’t respect my parents.

I’d like to introduce you to my denim vest.

“Hi, hello, how’s it goin’?”

Is it childish? Check.
Seasonally inappropriate? Check.
Makes me look like a high school delinquent? Check, check, check.

People don’t really wear denim vests anymore except at metal or punk shows or if they’re at Coachella. This isn’t the kind of accessory you see advertised anywhere. I’m not sure it ever was. Leather? Sure. But denim? Not so much.

A denim vest starter pack consists of various obscure patches and pins, teenage angst, “down with the man!” facial piercings, and shotgunned beers in the living room and/or shower. Aka, my “misunderstood” college years minus the beers and plus a few more piercings.

Maybe I hang on to my vest because it has something to do with reliving my “carefree” college days—up all night, wandering darkened small-town streets and scuffling along on my longboard, pretending like I was a real hooligan. (I wasn’t. I’m still not.) Or maybe I just like wearing it and couldn’t care less about the nostalgia. Who knows.

I always wanted to be a Tough Customer like Molly. (source)

When I wear it, I feel like I can take on anything, like no one wants to mess with me. I also feel like I’m 15. I probably look 15 when I wear it, because I’ve always looked younger than I am. Throw in a beanie and my resting bitch face, and I could probably sit unnoticed in the back row of your Algebra I class. Spoiler: I’m 25, and I probably look like I’m trying too hard. Who do I think I am, anyway?

I’m ridiculously attached to this thing, though I hardly get a chance to wear it anymore—professionalism and punk rock don’t really go hand in hand. It’s covered in patches I spent many weekends making from nothing but fabric and paint. It’s a physical manifestation of a side of myself that I don’t show many people (hooray for INFJ tendencies).

My life is a constant struggle  between professionalism and spooky pinup babe.

Whatever the reason is behind my love affair with this vest, I hope I never completely figure it out. It’s a work of art (shitty art, maybe), but it’s ever-evolving—I’m continually adding new patches to it, and I’m always finding different things to pair it with.

Currently I’m into rocking it with a dress—black, red, or white and either striped, plain, or polka dot. Add some leggings and a pair of flats or creepers, and I’m good to go. So maybe it also has something to do with my psychobilly/pinup fascination. Go ahead and call me a creep (I don’t mind).

You probably hate what I’m wearing. But that’s okay; I probably hate what you’re wearing too. 💋

I Probably Hate What You’re Wearing: Brown Knee-High Boots

A trend commentary series

Fashion boots are cool. They make you feel powerful and important when you’re click-clacking from meeting to meeting. Who doesn’t love to feel intimidating and feared by men?

But there’s one kind of boot I don’t dig: brown knee-high boots. They fall into the category of trends I’m over and wish would die already. Now, I’m not talking about ankle booties—they’re an entirely different category of boots and I have absolutely nothing against wearing a pair of cute lil’ booties. It’s the tall brown ones I have beef with.

I’ll admit, I was a die-hard brown boot kinda girl for about two years during my unfortunate earth-tones-only phase (more on that in the future). But since I gave them up, I’ve noticed a few things.

Namely, most girls who wear said boots pair them with black leggings. And while I’m all about leggings, brown and black typically do not pair well together. I once saw a woman wearing brown boots, black leggings, and a navy blazer together. It was a trainwreck. It was the trifecta of colors no one should ever pair together. It was the prime example of a Pinterest-inspired outfit gone wrong.

The perpetrator.

Knee-high brown boots go hand in hand with Starbucks red cups, puffy vests, pearl statement necklaces, and boot cuffs (don’t even get me started) or socks that peek out “cutely” from your boots—all of which add up to what I’d describe as the Pinterest poster child.

Brown knee-high boots tell me your name is Brittany or Amber. You enjoy “adventures” and Instagramming latte art with inspirational captions. Brown knee-high boots tell me that you most likely blow up your spouse’s social media feed with public displays of unnecessary affection, wear Hunter rain boots when you’re not wearing your brown boots, and include yourself as a teammate when talking about your favorite football team (“We lost, but we sure put up a good fight.”). How do I know this? Your boots screamed it at me.

A Google image search for “brown boots outfits” yields unsightly results.

I don’t know. It’s all very basic-white-American-girl to me. Do you really want to wear an iteration of the exact outfit thousands of other women have worn every fall and winter for the past four years? Hasn’t four years been enough? Aren’t you tired of pumpkin spice lattes yet?

What’s the solution to this? I’m glad you asked. Put your ghastly brown knee-highs where they belong: in the back of your closet, next to your Uggs, and out of my sight. Opt for a pair of tall black boots instead.

Black, unlike brown, is an attractive color. It goes with everything. It can look professional, but it can also look badass. It gives off a more polished and in-charge vibe, and if the boots have a heel, even better. You go kick some ass, and don’t be afraid to look great while doing it!

What about the pumpkin spice latte? Unfortunately, I don’t think much can be done about that. But we can at least wear our black boots in solidarity and look fabulous as hell.