This has been one long, tiring year, and I think we could all use a moment to chill.

I've been making these playlists for my friend Cortney while she's been in Ukraine the last two years with the Peace Corps, and I'll admit I've slacked this year (Vol. 4 was last winter!). But with her assignment coming to an end, and our endless chats about where we want to travel next and what we want to see, I felt like this selection of 6 songs was fitting: it implies movement (literally) and ends with some reflection – and it can all be enjoyed with a calming cuppa.

VOL. 5: Decaf

1. "Paris" - Sabrina Carpenter 
2. "Ever Since New York" - Harry Styles
3. "Call of the Wild" - MILCK
4. "Blink (One Million Miles)" from Hearts Beat Loud
5. "Youth (acoustic)" - Troye Sivan
6. "21st Century Machine" - Catie Turner

The last time there was a photo of me with my natural hair on my head, I was 12.

I cried a lot before picture day that year. I wanted to stay at home or ask if the yearbook photographer could use my photo from last year instead. That was a battle I lost, but I did get to wear a dress I loved and, for the first time, got to wear lip gloss to school.

I've always loved makeup, but never felt like it was "for me." In all of the magazines where they taught you how to do your makeup, the tutorials always featured girls with light skins and large eyelids. For school plays, the moms who volunteered to do makeup never knew what to do with girls like me and I always came out too pale or with various eye products smeared down my cheeks.

And then my hair started to fall out and no one, including my family, knew what to do with me at all. I believed that makeup was for covering up flaws, and there weren't enough products in the world to fix what I felt everyone was implying was "wrong" with me.

But I wanted to wear makeup. I wanted to feel as confident and as beautiful as the girls in the magazines, and I wanted to be able to look in a mirror or at a photograph and not hate what I saw. If you saw my school photos between 1999 and 2001, you'd be shocked at how suddenly the smile disappeared: 5th grade was the last time I took a photo with a somewhat-full head of hair. By 2000, the wisps that remained were covered by headscarves, and when junior high came, I refused to leave the house without a wig.

Through all of that, and all through high school, I would still scan through Seventeen and Teen People, and I would wander up and down the makeup aisles at Target and wished I knew how to use the products that gave those other girls their smiles.

The moment, for me, where it started to change was 2006 during a cycle 6 episode of America's Next Top Model. The contestants had a challenge where they wore bald caps to model Swarovski crystals – and those photos were gorgeous. I suddenly felt seen in a very real and very visible way. I didn't have to just be "the bald girl." Maybe I could also be a CoverGirl?

In the early days of experimenting with products (both bought from drugstores and "borrowed" from my mom's Shiseido stash), I had plenty of missteps and I still cringe when I see those photos buried in albums and in boxes at my parents' house. Thank God for YouTube tutorials and blogs to guide me through college – those were the first times I ever saw someone who looked like me putting on makeup, teaching, talking about products that worked and didn't work. It was like a whole new world that I didn't think I could ever enjoy.

And that was something that took me awhile to fully understand: it is a world to be enjoyed. I started to see that makeup wasn't about hiding behind something. Just like putting on a good pair of shoes or a T-shirt you love, makeup is about expressing yourself. It can be fun. It should be fun.

I think that's partially why I started @alopeciamua: to experiment, to play, and to hopefully reach at least one person out there who's thought their whole life that they needed makeup to "fix" them. For my entire life, I've never fussed with fake eyebrows or fake eyelashes or eyelid tape, even though those would've helped me get on the path toward what I'm told is "normal" and "beautiful."

For the first time in nearly 20 years, I'm starting to feel good again. The photo set above represents that: these words were just some of the things I was called growing up, and I no longer want to let those things hold power over me anymore. It's been 17 years since I last let there be a photograph of me without a wig, and this account is just one small step toward reclaiming who I am.

A post shared by Trey (@alopeciamua) on Jul 26, 2018 at 4:12pm PDT

There's nothing more uncomfortable about realizing you're a product of a digital age when you run into traces of the person you used to be: through abandoned blogs, Facebook's On This Day reminder, or old chat transcripts tucked away in your email you'd forgotten about – all there, documenting your growth (or, sometimes, lack thereof) online and in public.

This Instagram post is now archived, but I posted it with the caption, "Filing this away for personal reasons."

Throughout high school, I always carried a disposable camera in my backpack. I desperately tried to document everything because I was afraid of forgetting it.

And I was afraid if I forgot those things, that I would somehow lose myself too. Because I didn't exist without those people and those places, those conversations or those moments. Because I wasn't a whole person without someone seeing that I was there.

I'm hoping to get back into a blogging mode soon – bear with me.

2018 has been a challenging year. A deeply personal loss and a deeply personal fight has led to more days than I hoped of not wanting to get out of bed. And now, with half of my time spent between two cities, it's been tougher than I thought it would be to keep on top of all of the non-work-related projects I wanted to accomplish this year.

But what's been helping has been small moments of inspiration, and reminders of what it means to want to create.


One of my favorite musicians is MIKA, and if you've ever heard any of his songs, you know he has an incredibly unique voice and perspective and that comes through in all of his music, from "Grace Kelly" to "Last Party."

Sometimes when I'm in a creative rut, I'll listen to his entire discography, from start to finish, and there's such an incredible arc to it all that reflects his own personal story and his career. You really get a sense from his music that he's revealing bits and pieces of who he is, how he got here, and why he's creating.

For his "Origin of Love" album, he recorded these special tracks for Spotify where he introduced each song and gave a bit of background on how he wrote it and sort of the context of creating it, and it gave me such a deeper appreciation for that album and the story he was telling. Adele does it too with her music, and I think it's such an art to be able to tell a story like that through songs.

There are moments when I'm listening to music like that (the deluxe edition of "No Place in Heaven" is an A+ example of it, and if you've never heard MIKA's music set to a live orchestra, you absolutely must) where I'll get hit with this thought of, "Oh my god, I'm never going to be able to create something as beautiful as that," but the key thing here is that listening to this music makes me want to try – and that's the most inspiring thing about art.

I want to tell you about the last two months — about catching up with old friends; about the things that made me laugh; about the places I went and the people I met and the experiences I had just existing in the present moment.

You would be happy to know that you’re still bringing me together with people, and you would remind me that I should’ve listened to you the past decade to be more patient and to make time to get to know people, rather than just work all the time and shut out the world. You would love hearing about all of the stories being shared.

I want to tell you about 2007.

Graduating from high school is weird. If you asked me to walk you through the day, I couldn't, because I don't remember it really. I remember being anxious and nervous and excited, all at once. I remember my best friend at the time reaching over and grabbing me by the arm before it all began. "Dude," she said. "This is it."

It's odd the moments that stand out – the conversations that replay easily on a loop. And then there are some that I remember in the distance but couldn't tell you any details if you paid me.

Sometimes it's the most random things I remember, and I don't know why.

Like yesterday, I was thinking about one of the last open dances of the year that was inextricably "career" themed, but I showed up as a rock star because I was tired of people asking me what I wanted to do with my life.

"Isn't that what college is for?" I vented to my friends.

"This is literally just a silly costume for a dance," they said, annoyed.

I was always waiting for the future to reveal itself. I was so sure there would be signs. When I think about it now, I'm pretty sure if there were signs, I ignored them all. And maybe I'm still ignoring them or fighting them without realizing it. I keep thinking that eventually I'll come to a fork in the road and it'll all make sense, and 2007 me would say, "Ohhh. Of course." And then in 2027, I can look back and remember the late-night messages and the talks and the people who told me to go to bed instead of staying up until 12:51 a.m. writing loquacious blog posts that have no real purpose except to selfishly clear my own head.

But then again, perhaps, it's not that selfish.

I cannot breathe without writing first. I can't write without remembering to breathe. The two actions are linked, like two arms swaying back and forth on a walk down the street. It's why I started blogging weekly, even if I sometimes felt like I didn't have anything to say. It gave me an outlet for times when I felt small, times when I felt voiceless, times when I felt too tired for life.

But right now, I think I need a break. I've gotten all the words out of my brain that I think I can muster, and while I sort out what's in front of me, I need to also sort out what's been around me since 2007: the anxiety, the nerves, the fear. And as much as writing helps sometimes, I also think it's become a crutch I've leaned on too heavily at times because reflection can be easier than embracing what comes next. Nostalgia feels more comfortable than dipping your toes in new waters and exploring a future unknown.

The next time I write to you, I want to tell you about 2018.

I want to tell you about 2008.

The first year of college is a rough one. That’s not a revelation. I was struggling with a lot of personal stuff along with adjusting to being full-time away from the familiarity of home. I was vulnerable and there was someone who took advantage of that. He was a loser, but quite good at manipulating me and I got easily tricked. When I tried to speak up, nobody believed me.

I felt myself disappearing. I quit my job. I wasn’t eating or sleeping. I was failing my classes (I still have the GPA record to prove it), and I discovered easy ways to get alcohol and other things that either kept me wired or knocked me out.

One night, it was particularly bad. I got back to my room where I had left my laptop on, signed into AIM (because that’s what we did back then to make sure we didn’t miss people’s messages), and Alan was messaging me — probably about an essay or something for HumCore we were supposed to read. By this point, we were friends and we talked about dorm drama, but nowhere was it written we were close enough for me to call him about this. But I did, and told him I was tired and couldn’t do it anymore and I wanted to disappear completely.

In minutes, he showed up outside my dorm. We went for a walk. We listened to music and he made me laugh. We went back to his dorm and watched videos and talked more.

He gave me a place to go that night and opened his door every night I needed a place.

When I think back to that, I always felt guilty for being a burden. Our old exchanges on Facebook are proof of that, the ones that happened during the time we fought because we were jealous the other person seemed to be getting closer to other friends. But he told me since that he needed the friendship as much as I did. The journey our lives went on was proof of it, and everything we had gone through — all the advice and more — we needed each other, even if I still sometimes feel like I asked too much of him.

I’ve been reminding myself to breathe lately. It feels like my shoulder has been disconnected and I’m just walking around lopsided right now. It’ll probably feel that way for a long time, and it’ll definitely feel that way when birthdays come and go or memories pass by.

I wanted to tell you about that moment because I’m not who I was 10 years ago. I grew up, graduated with honors and as my commencement speaker, and moved across the country in pursuit of a dream. I attribute so much of that to Alan and no amount of words I write or say can ever really capture the depth of what our friendship meant. And whatever happens next in life, I know I’ll always try to live in a way that honors that.

And I hope I made a difference for him too. In between the life moments — the academic achievements and professional ones and, of course, the meeting of his real soulmate and watching their love story — there will always be a part of me that knows we did well and that our 18-year-old selves would be so fucking proud.


A couple years ago, we were Skyping and he was asking me for advice about a tough decision, and I was sick and trying to be helpful. I didn’t think I was making much sense, but he told me I should write a book someday for when he needed advice but didn’t want to bother me when I was busy running the world. I rolled my eyes, popped a cough drop, and he asked me what the wrapper said.

“What?” I asked.

“Halls wrappers are like fortune cookies!” he said (he would know that).

I looked. It does have sayings on it, by the way, for when you need a pep talk while you’re sick.

“‘You’ve survived tougher,’” I read.

He wrote that on my Facebook wall as a reminder and attributed it to Halls.

This blog, now, has been where I've processed the most as I've grown older: joy, pain, heartbreak, love.

Loss.

These words are not perfect. I've been writing, and re-writing, this. I've hovered on the "publish" button until falling asleep from pure exhaustion. If you're reading this now, it's because I need to take another step forward in processing what happened.

There's no guidebook for a moment like this, when someone who was so very much present suddenly becomes the past. Last week, I booked a train ticket. We made plans to see A Wrinkle in Time on opening weekend. I put his birthday present in my Amazon shopping cart so I wouldn't forget to order it when I got back from my Lunar New Year trip home.

"Must be fate," he wrote as we planned out the visit. (There was an hourglass emoji in there too.)

That was our last exchange. I keep looking at it, waiting for the follow up.

Finals week, freshman year. We went to the library just to take this photo.

We called each other "Other Half." At one point during an all-nighter essay-writing session over AIM, he deliriously wrote "O.T." instead of "O.H.," and then he called me "O.T." ever since. We were absolute opposites, but we found the moments that made us click so well. I was jealous of how quickly and easily he made friends. He would remind me to tell him if he was being too impulsive. Scroll back through our Facebook chats or the AIM conversations that were archived in my Gmail, and you'll find long rambling messages about everything and nothing all at once. If we fought, it was usually over something stupid, and we always made up by reminding each other that we'd have nobody else to watch Greek with if we weren't talking.

1. Agave Lip Mask by Bite Beauty

I wrote about this in last week's post on lip care already, but I wanted to add that Bite is apparently releasing a lavender one in the U.S. soon and I'm so excited.

2. Sephora Collection PRO Mini Flawless Airbrush #56.5

This was this year's VIB Rouge gift, and what a great gift it was. At first, I was skeptical because I've typically relied on more firm brushes for my foundation, but this one surprised me. It spreads the foundation evenly without leaving a streaky mess, and it also doesn't soak up too much of the product either. And it's nice and travel-sized!

3. S'well water bottle

I got a S'well water bottle in December as part of an event swag bag, and I love it. All last year, I struggled to find the right water bottle that wouldn't leak in my backpack or fall apart unexpectedly. So by the time I got this bottle, my first thought was, "How will this disappoint me?"

Well, so far – it hasn't. It really does keep liquids cold for a really long time (Na got one of the coffee tumblers recently and said it's kept her coffee warm for a longer period of time than other tumblers) and the lid is secure. Plus, it isn't bulky! The best of all worlds.

4. Sephora Collection's #Lipstories Lipstick

These are $8. I repeat: Eight. Dollars.

And they're gorgeous. The formula is creamy and the colors are gorgeous. I also love the packaging, even though I've heard some people criticize it because it's paper-based. But I think that's what makes it unique, and I love the idea of having each tube serve as a sort of photo postcard of sorts.

My current obsession: Hong Kong by Night. It's beautiful.

5. Boulangerie Jar - Espresso

I've been obsessed with this coffee-smelling candle since sniffing it at Anthropologie, so it was such a delight to get it as a Christmas present from Amanda! It's a subtle scent when you light it, and it looks pretty on my desk too.

6. RÅSKOG Utility cart

My new bathroom doesn't have a ton of storage space (really, it has none), so I've had to make it work in my room instead – which is fine because doing my makeup at my new desk/vanity set-up is much better than leaning over the sink to see myself in a mirror. The best addition to all of this: this utility cart from IKEA that holds all of the makeup I'm reaching for frequently, plus nail polish and lotions, all stored in handy little baskets on the cart. And I can even wheel this thing to the bathroom if I want to do my makeup in there.

Watch this:

• The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel
• I, Tonya
• Kids Baking Championship on Food Network (this is literally the purest thing in the world)

I suffer from a chapped lip problem, and sometimes it's felt like there was no solution aside from slathering balm on every hour. But after sitting down to really do my research (and by that, I mean that I watched a lot of YouTube videos), I've found a few staples that have changed my lip care routine and have made wearing lipsticks more comfortable and less messy.

Along with drinking more water, these are the products that have saved my chapped lips this winter:

Lip Facial Lip Scrub by Tarte

I had been using the Lush lip scrub, but lately it just hadn't been doing the trick. The sugar would go on and just crumble right off without taking away any of the dead skin. But what's great about the Tarte Lip Facial is that it's also a hydrating balm that leaves a cooling finish after the sugar is gone. I also love that it's in a crayon format.

Agave Lip Mask by Bite Beauty

I got this as a sample a few weeks ago and gave it a try after hearing good things about it from a few Beauty Gurus, and they weren't kidding: this stuff is the definition of recovery and replenishing. There are four colors – three which give you a slight tint, but I've gone with the natural since I put it on before bed – which are a great alternative to a gloss when your lips are feeling particularly dry. Since using this, I've noticed a massive improvement in my lips when I wake up: they look healthier and there's definitely less chapping.

Brazilian Kiss Cupuacu Lip Butter by Sol de Janeiro

This lip balm is so addicting – it smells amazing and it's left my lips feeling incredibly soft. The addition of coconut oil feels extra moisturizing, and after the nighttime ritual of the Tarte Lip Facial and Agave Lip Mask, this lip butter has been all I need in the morning to keep my lips hydrated all day.

Rose Lollipop Lip Balm by Lush

This was on my 2016 favorites list, and I still stand by it (even if I'm still not crazy about using a potted lip balm). Even though I've been reaching for the Sol de Janerio Lip Butter lately, this is still a fantastic lip balm staple that's a year-round favorite.

What lip care products are you using this winter?

I've developed a terrible habit of getting lost in potential criticism before I complete a task. I didn't think it was enough to paralyze me, but I have wondered lately if it's something that's stopped me in the past from attempting something.

"If you write that story, someone will accuse you of doing it all wrong."

That's a thought I realized has gone through my mind more and more, as of late. I'm afraid to pitch stories because I don't think I have something worth saying. I'm even more afraid, if I do write and publish it, it will be so poorly-received from all sides that I should rethink why I'm even in this business in the first place.

In 2017, all I could think about was how burnt out I felt by the news cycle and the endless feed of news that crossed my eyes every day. It's one of the downsides, I suppose, of staring at a computer all day – but even though I've been in this business for 6 years, for some reason, last year just hit me hard.

Last week, I got dinner with a friend, who's in the same industry, and she told me she had deleted social media apps off her phone. She realized her justifications in the past of "needing" to be connected for her job didn't hold up the more she felt herself getting drowned in the news she had spent all day consuming already. As I was listening to her talk about it, I realized I wanted so badly to do the same – except I'm afraid I don't have the same self-control.

I have a hard time rooting for leading characters on TV – not because I have a natural disdain for those billed as "stars," but because I find myself drawn more often than not to the people deemed "sidekicks." Perhaps it's that label – "sidekick" – that's always spoken to me because it's how people of color are often seen when it comes to the big and small screen, and my brain always pushes me to see those characters the clearest: the comic relief, the best friend, the work confidante... those aren't just "supporting" characters; they're real people too, and their stories are often the ones I crave to see more of: Christina Yang, Pacey Witter, Shawn Hunter, Lane Kim, Randall Pearson (arguably, Randall is the true heart of This Is Us, but you know the series began with Jack and Rebecca in mind as the anchors).

But in Midge Maisel, Amy Sherman-Palladino has created a radiant lead character – a woman who's smart, sharp, funny...and deeply flawed. She's a character you want to root for despite the moments that'll make you want to shout at her because her missteps are never at the expense of others. Her outbursts, her stumbles, her mistake in paying the "Stage Deli bottom-feeder" for material were always in pursuit of something bigger than her dream of being on stage: it was in pursuit of paving a path for herself that had nothing to do with being the "perfect" wife, a "good daughter," or a stay-at-home mom.

And while Midge is all of those things, and she admits she enjoys it and does miss being married, she eventually pursues her passions because she believes she can "have it all" without compromising who she is. She doesn't need to be the kind of person who paints a false exterior in order to maintain the image society has come to expect of her – not about her divorce, not about her comedy. For Midge, she earnestly believes she belongs on the stage just as she is.

In The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, we're transported to a period of time that feels familiar in 2018: being a woman and a stand-up comic was an over-the-top ambition back then, and no one can understand why Midge and her pretty features wouldn't want to do something on stage like sing. "Women aren't funny" is the primary obstacle facing Midge (and, in many ways, it feels like we haven't progressed beyond that thought as a society) and watching her push back is just so satisfying.

Also satisfying: Alex Borstein's Susie Myerson, a character that doesn't need to be likable for you to root for Midge, yet there she is: crass, straightforward, brilliant. This is a friendship you want to support and encourage – two people who've never quite fit the mold of what was expected of them – and thank god it wasn't created the way female friendships are often forged on TV (because of, and usually in spite of, a boy).


If you're familiar with Amy Sherman-Palladino's work, then it's no surprise her characters all speak with speed and the same sharp wit that sometimes makes you wonder if you and your friends are speaking a different language entirely. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is no exception, but something about this series as opposed to Gilmore Girls feels more deliberate, like she's taking her time for viewers to understand this world. It helps, I think, that the setting is void of cell phones and computers and cable TV, so there's need to worry about how technology could've solved the issues and misunderstandings the characters face.

If this wasn't enough to convince you to watch it (if you haven't yet), then come talk to me: there's another season coming (and let's hope for more), so anything can happen as Midge explores her many identities and dreams – and you'll want to be right there with her as she does it.

There were two reactions we got when we started telling people we would be starting a Dawson's Creek podcast: 1) "Why??" and 2) "omg I loved that show."

It's honestly not an obvious choice – there was nothing particularly newsworthy happening to warrant an entire re-watch podcast dedicated to the show. But I had been talking one day with someone about how unsatisfying many series finales are (most likely it came in light of the Switched at Birth finale), and the question of "What's the best series finale you've seen?" came up. After thinking about it for a bit, the answer was a no-brainer: it's Dawson's Creek.

(Before I continue: this post is spoiler-free, in case you haven't yet watched the series or you're Charles and are just about to start season 3.)

1. Stunna Lip Paint in Uncensored by Fenty Beauty

It's been marketed as the perfect red for all skin tones, and speaking as someone who's had trouble finding the "perfect red," I can vouch for this lip paint. It isn't too bright of a red, nor does it come out too orange-y, like a lot of reds do on me. I've also heard from some people who find the applicator weird, but I actually like it a lot. The long handle gives a lot of control (it reminds me of those Louboutin nail polishes) and you get a lot of product on one dip (although that might have something to do with the formula itself).

The problem I have with this, though, is that it's kind of a mess. It gets on anything you're eating or drinking, and yet the color stays on my lips – which also makes it hard to take off.