Earlier this year, I attended a gathering for Mom-bloggers called Camp Baby, put on by the fine folks at Johnson and Johnson. Our final morning, we were treated to a sample-a-thon from many of the brands that we’d learned about during the presentations the previous day. Armed with an envirosac and the promise that J&J would pay to ship home any goodies, I hit the tables with a vengeance.

I was shopping for the holidays last year when I first saw it, and I'm not embarrassed to say that as I reached out my hand to grab the package, I gave the kind of excited squeeeee! that's not generally heard coming from a supposed grown up. It was a tube, all nicely packaged, of Bonne Bell Dr. Pepper Lip Smacker; the very same lip gloss I'd fallen so hard for in the late 1970s. My heart was kind of, well, racing, actually, as I stood in the checkout line with my rediscovered love. Would it be as good as I remembered? Did they dare to mess with the formula?

I'll admit it: I'm pale. My mother's side of the family is British and my father's side of the family is Irish and German; add those three heritages together and you've got a pretty pasty-looking family tree. Left to my own devices, I don't really tan very well. Sure, sometimes I'm capable of a little color, but most of the time, I'm not. My skin, in fact, goes from white to red to peeling -- do not pass go, do not collect $200, do not even hover in the "bronzed and glowing" spectrum -- in a matter of days. Bottom line: I need to fake it. I need to fake it bad.

I have oily skin, which is a mixed blessing.  At 40, I have very very few wrinkles (all that oil apparently helps prevent them) but by 3:00 pm most days, I'm mopping up a slick that could solve the energy crisis (forget drilling in ANWAR!  I've got your oil RIGHT HERE).  I'm constantly looking for ways to tame the shine and keep my face looking matte and fresh without caking on a lot of extra gunk.  Blotting papers are great, except they don't do anything to hide the wee flaws that only I can see.  I need a little coverage and a lot of absorption.  Is that too much to ask?

Usually, by this point in the summer, my hair is a small nest of dried fuzz, my lips are cracked and dry and, though I try to be responsible with the sun block, I've had to deal with the after effects of at least one sunburn. But this year I've been luckier, thanks to this great, totally natural line of sun care products.

We're rushing toward Labor Day, which is the official end of summer; it's nearly time to wash the beach towels and pack away the pool bag.Just don't pack your sunscreen up -- you're going to need that, every single day, for the rest of your life.  I am entirely serious.  The only thing that damages your skin more than unmitigated sun exposure is smoking -- and if you're smoking AND skipping sunscreen?  Girl, we need to talk.

I have made a thrilling discovery. I, too, can have wavy hair.That might not seem like a very big deal to you, but let me explain. My entire life, my hair has been straight as a pin. I've had my fair share of perms -- I did grow up in the 80's, after all -- but when not permed, my locks were straight and pretty limp.Now that I'm older, I've played around with different haircuts that give my hair more body, and keeping it fairly short and layered makes that happen. But, still, it's STRAIGHT.Or is it?

In NYC where nail salons exist two to a corner and a pedicure can cost less than what some people spend at Starbucks in a day, professionally groomed tootsies are practically a requisite for resident status along with a love for chocolate egg creams and the ability to talk an off-duty cabbie into taking you home in the rain. The economy being what it is however, I've broken down and *gasp* gone far longer without Dashing Diva attention than in summers past. Don't tell the mayor.

When the September fashion magazines hit the newstands, I get this urge to change my makeup. It's still summer, of course. But I'm starting to think fall.The thing is, just as my wardrobe is not ready for a silk dress with a long purple cashmere cardigan, striped hose, and black patent leather peep-toe mary janes, so my face is not ready for full-on cold weather makeup. I'm not ready for real foundation, powder, and lipstick. It's too heavy and serious and done looking.

I've had a busy summer, one that has left me choosing between sleeping enough and getting things done. Inevitably, I choose getting things done, and so I am constantly tired. But I hate looking like I'm constantly tired because that's just one more reminder that I am barely getting things done -- please tell me I'm not the only one running this treadmill? Okay thanks!Since sleeping more doesn't seem to be an option, I've been faking a wide-awake look lately, which is simpler than you might imagine. Two steps, actually: eye liner and mascara.

If you asked me what one beauty product I could not live without, my answer would have to be CO Bigelow's Mentha Lip Tint. I discovered this little tube of Heaven for My Lips by way of my sister. We were at our Mom's house when I had reached into my purse for my lipgloss. The lipgloss was missing. "Here, use mine." she said, as she handed me the lipgloss.

Okay, I'm going to admit something publicly: I have a mustache.  Yeah, sure, it amounts to about eight dark hairs just above the corners of my mouth, but if I can see them then everyone can see them and that mortifies me.If memory serves, my upper lip began getting hairy around the time I turned 40 - so, not that long ago. (Okay, that was a while ago.)