The Miss Havisham/Grey Gardens aspect of girlishness is not mined enough in fashion, in my opinion. Both Marc Jacobs and Prada can be counted on to tilt in that direction every so often: I am always wildly gratified and desperate to spend millions I don't have. A pink, a gray, a cobweb, a satin, a general screwed-up-ness is what I love. Hard to translate to beauty: maybe a smudgy pencil, a faint rose lip, beachy-bedhead hair, and Anaïs Anaïs perfume?

These MAC colors are just the dreamiest, shimmeriest, cobwebbiest gorgeousness ever in a very long time—Havisham chic has arrived. The little tubs of loose eyeshadow are like powdered sugar (normally I laugh when makeup artists try to lure me into either the eyeshadow or shimmer arenas, but this stuff is pretty and feminine, and I can't stop playing with it); the hazy pink lip gloss smells pleasingly like marshmallows; and the pale blush leaves a super-alluring yet almost invisible highlight wherever you put it.