My father spends basically every waking hour of his life on psych wards making rounds, so he's not exactly whom I turn to for product recommendations. But, alas! Like many hard-on-their-parents daughters, I've underestimated him. He introduced me to this Biotene mouthwash, which specifically (and brilliantly) treats dry mouth (fancy term: Xerostomia) caused by (amongst other things) certain medications, psychiatric or otherwise.A It's also good for coffee-guzzling editors who stress out a lot (another cause of cottonmouth), smokers, or just anyone who can't force themselves to drink water constantly. Accordingly, it's super-breath-freshening, but mild-tasting and gentle.A I bought it at the drugstore (by the pharmacy counter, natch), but you can get it on Amazon.com for a mere $6.

—Cat Marnell, associate beauty editor

Jennifer Romolini's eBay Obsessed blog constantly inspires me to hunt the site for cool, quirky stuff—especially when I'm undertaking really uninspiring projects like decorating my totally boring bathroom. Trolling the site, I was psyched to find these amazing vintage Chanel No. 5 print ads: there are tons of hugely glamorous options—almost all of them cost about $10—and I only have room for two favorites: this hot pumps-and-stockings shot from 1984, and this awesome 1974 ad starring Catherine Deneuve in a killer tuxedo—all I need now are two cheap frames!A I think "Romolini"—as she's known at Lucky H.Q.—would be proud.
—Cat Marnell, associate beauty editor

I'd sooner make out with Criss Angel in public than comb a jar of mayonnaise through my hair, and it's not just because I'm a product-obsessed non-cook.

First of all, I don't want to kill my roommate by lubing up our bathtub. Second, the DIY beauty treatments I've read seem a lot more trouble than they're worth. Soak a washcloth in a bowl of milk and grated cucumber and wear it on my face for 10 minutes to soothe post-flight skin? Really, shall-remain-nameless magazine? Because that's truly the very last thing I want to do when I get home from the airport. I'd rather be a little puffy. (Same goes with the seemingly low-maintenance tea-bags-on-the-eyes thing—it's messy! Tea trickles down your face and you have to lie down on the floor so it won't get all over your bed or wherever. Pass the cooling eye gel; thanks.)

The big argument is that making your own products is cheaper. I don't know. If we're in a recession and I buy a banana, I don't mash it into a hair mask. I eat it.

Am I being totally judgmental? Do any of you get serious results after inflicting beer or oatmeal or avocados on yourself? Please correct me if I'm wrong.

—Cat Marnell, associate beauty editor

My desk looks like Sephora threw up on it: eyeliner, sunscreen, perfume, eyeshadow compacts, toothpaste, conditioner, mascaras, lip balms (my God, the lip balms), foam hair-styling noodles, body washes and so on—everywhere.

Beauty clutter may sound dreamy (and don't get me wrong: I love it), but as an easily-overwhelmed, not-particularly-organized person (COLOSSAL UNDERSTATEMENT ALERT), it's also maddening. And—so long as I continue to review beauty products for a living—it's never-ending. So no matter how often a coworker takes pity and organizes my desk, the clean slate lasts two hours, tops.

It's no better at home: I keep every product I own—from makeup to hairspray—in a weird-looking cardboard bucket from the Container Store, which I rummage through every morning like a raccoon in a Dumpster.

I need help. How do you organize your beauty items (or even just keep your desks clean at work)? THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU in advance.

—Cat Marnell, associate beauty editor

For four years at a coed boarding school in Massachusetts, I shared a bathroom with a dozen other teenage girls. All of our makeup, razors, hairspray, etc., were crammed into the shower caddies or stuffed precariously on shelves, and we shamelessly poached from one another (you'd step into the bathroom and smell YOUR shampoo wafting steamily from the shower, being used by someone decidedly not you). It was a hot topic at dorm meetings.

Though there must have been exceptions, almost every girl used either a) Pantene b) Herbal Essences (in the old-school bottles!) or c) Finesse. I was the latter. It was the best clean-smelling shampoo ever. And I'm still obsessed with smelling clean—not floral, not musky, not spicy—clean clean clean.

Then, yesterday, escaping heinous weather by ducking into a Walgreens near my office, I spotted Finesse shampoo on a bottom shelf. Shockingly—as hair companies seem to constantly reformulate classic products—IT SMELLED EXACTLY THE SAME AS IT DID TEN YEARS AGO. MY smell. I died (again, in the Rachel Zoe way).

Today—in the shower, natch—it hit me: I smelled my best in high school, when in addition to Finesse, I body-washed with that classically gloppy, creamy white Dove stuff (and the squishy loofah thing), followed by classic Nivea body lotion (one of my favorite beauty-smells ever— I always tell the Nivea people to make a little roll-on fragrance oil). Now, as a beauty editor, I'm too often lured by the fancy-and-expensive (you know: perfumey creams and deep conditioners or whatever, always in heavy glass packaging that would slice off a toe if it slipped from the tub ledge and shattered). While glamorous, no pricey scent comes close to the freshly-showered-all-day smell of my cheapie high school regimen (to which I'm now returning!).

What products did YOU love back when? Think about it—should you bring any of them back?

—Cat Marnell, associate beauty editor

Knocking feralchildren.com—a database of kids raised by wolves (it still happens!)-from the #1 spot on my list of creepy websites: longhaircommunity.com: the homepage for those who dream of someday being able to sit on their own hair, then brag about it on the internet.

There's dozens of sites like it, all bursting with fervor. Not unlike showoff-y, Facebook-loving Disney stars, members named "OhNoTangles!" and "WiccaVixen" post saucy photos of their glorious splint-end-free manes (their word, not mine!). Gothy makeup is popular. Flatirons are not. Everyone is on suspicious-sounding "Hairtopia Vitamins", and there are DIY-conditioner recipes involving castor oil and organic bananas.

Members are a mixed bunch: whimsical ("I feel like a mermaid and I love braiding my hair like a medieval goddess"), poignant ("It was growing by itself and I didn't notice it at first, but then people started telling me 'your hair is getting longer' and then I knew my hair was growing"), even male ("EAT LOTS OF PROTEIN AND BEWARE OF RAT'S NESTS KNOTS LOL").

Admittedly, however, there were excellent tips for getting long hair:

1) Avoid hot tools and super-hot showers as much as possible.
2) Trim regularly (split ends are the enemy).
3) Don't brush hair while wet, and detangle only with your fingers.
4) Deep condition; sometimes switch it up with a hot oil treatment.
5) Sleep with on satin pillowcase with your hair a velvet scrunchie topknot (awesome).
6) Attend the Renaissance Fair annually to meet up with your online posse for Medieval role-playing games and a Wiccan moon ritual. (JOKING! I have no idea where they hang out.)

You can also buy these products by a company called "Long Hair Lovers", if so inclined.

Do YOU have any hair-growth tips?

—Cat Marnell, associate beauty editor

Do you ever find yourself talking ad nauseum about incredibly boring things? "I'm obsessed with carbonation," I told three dinner companions over the weekend. "I'm constantly craving seltzer, and champagne, and, like ... Pepsi. Out of a can, the bubbles are so much better. I wonder what it means that I want it all of the time?"

Blank stares (can you blame them?). "Interesting," someone said generously, and changed the subject.

Along similar lines, I love Listerine Essential Care Flouride Toothpaste like I have never loved a toothpaste before. When I'm using it, I'm having a full-on inner monologue. It goes like this: "I LOVE this toothpaste."

Like the mouthwash, it is intense; unlike the mouthwash, it is not unbearable to me. But the results are the same: My mouth tastes super-clean and fresh and amazingly Listerine-y for a LONG time.

Try it if you're not convinced—everyone I know who does instantly becomes a convert.

—Cat Marnell, associate beauty editor