I Can't Stop Staring at Christina Aguilera's Freckles →

When the latest cover of Paper magazine was released yesterday afternoon, I—like many others—had to do a double take when I saw the name Christina Aguilera printed across a close-up shot of a freckly, bare-faced blond. My internal monologue rambled through the stages of recognition: "Wait, who? No, it couldn't be. Christina has freckles?!? She looks so pretty. I never thought I'd see the day."

The public image of Christina Aguilera—the one she's mostly stuck to since she burst onto the music scene in 1999 with "Genie in a Bottle"—has been one in which makeup plays a big part. She has definitely been a "go big or go home" girl when it comes to beauty, long a fan of dramatic eyelashes, contouring, and a bold red lip. And that camp vibe is part of what makes Christina, Christina. The Papercover and coinciding photos inside, however, indicate that perhaps a different Aguilera era is upon us, and that new music is likely on the way. This isn't the first time we've seen a pop star take this route prior to a musical shift. See: Taylor Swift's brow-heavy Wonderland cover where she ditched her famed winged eyeliner and red lipstick.

Read the full story on Glamour.com 

Saving My Skin

I'm pretty sure vanity saved my life.

It all started with a raised reddish spot on my chest that peeked out each time I wore a V-neck. After trying every bump-eradicating skincare product I could think of, I realized it wasn't going away. So, seeing as my ridiculously fair-skinned self was also long overdue for a mole check, I made an appointment with my dermatologist. Turns out I will be forever grateful for that silly spot. While it was benign, my doctor found a small mole on my right thigh that was much darker than the others. It was edged up next to a freckle I'd had since I was a kid.

A week after my appointment and scrape biopsy, I got a call you know never comes with good news: The doctor himself was on the other end. My chest was fine; the spot on my thigh was the dreaded M word: melanoma. Cue the waterworks. At my desk. In the middle of the office. The doctor was talking and all that was going through my head were memories of my childhood friend Tricia who had lost a battle with melanoma six years ago at the age of 29. I thought about how I haven't left the house without sunscreen on for years and years, but tormented myself over my reckless (and painful) attempts to get tan as a teenager. Maybe this was my own fault! But I quickly pulled myself together, whipped out my notepad, and asked the good doctor to start from the top.

Read the full story on MarieClaire.com

America's Toughest Workout →

 I'm sprawled out on all fours, my hands sliding off the back of a sweat-soaked exercise mat as I desperately try to shift my legs back and forth behind me in a torturous series of moves called "mountain climbers." I'm flailing, dripping, red-faced, and gasping for breath. This may very well be the least graceful or attractive I've ever looked. Questions are running through my head at a pace as rapid as my pulse: Am I having a heart attack? Have I sweat out 14 pounds yet? How did I get here?

Read the full story on MarieClaire.com