So we're fighting over these summery, bronzy, super-wearable palettes.

Jemma Kidd English Rose Palette: Two creamy highlighters you swipe on with your fingers, two perfect nude shades for day, plus a shimmery chocolate shadow and a bordeaux stain for night.

Tarte Infinite Glow Bestsellers Palette: Toasty powder bronzer, vibrant cream blush that goes on with gel-like sheerness, and dewy seashell-pink gloss.

Elizabeth Arden Bronze Color Intrigue: The shimmery terra cotta infused shadows and subtly shimmery face powder really glowify.

Reader "lehcarhcnarb" posed a good question in the comments section the other day after seeing the post about wearing leggings for travel: "What do you suggest if you have to go right from the airport to a business meeting?" I think a dress makes most sense in this scenario, particularly one that's made of a fabric not prone to wrinkling, and something that's not too constricting to maximize comfort. This Rag & Bone boatneck jersey dress is kind of perfect. It's cut from cotton that's blended with Lycra for a little bit of stretch, and though it's very tailored, the fit isn't actually that tight. I'd pair it with ballet flats (and slipper socks like these to circumvent the barefoot-through-security issue!) and maybe switch to heels and add a bangle or dangly necklace to fancy it up after landing.

The other day, when I was sitting on the beach alone, looking out over miles of faraway people and sand, I had a revelation. I noticed that there were more striped, fun, classic umbrellas around than I think I'd ever seen: The entire shore looked like an old-timey postcard in the best, most civilized way. It made me wonder if something positive will come out of all this fear of sun exposure—if maybe our seashore experiences will become sophisticated again with big umbrellas and slightly more covered-up retro bathing suits and glamorous floppy hats. I want to be a part of this revolution if it ever comes, so I'm going to go ahead and plunk down $10.95 for this cool early-'60s-esque umbrella, take it with me to the beach, and drink only Coke out of a bottle or perhaps a tall Singapore Sling over ice.

I'm in the market for a new bathing suit, so I asked my friend Samantha, who's from Miami, for advice. She loves nothing more than to lie out in the sun, and owns more bikinis than anyone I know. She referred me to Araks, a company that got its start in lingerie and has since branched out into swimwear that shares the same clean and classic aesthetic. Samantha is really on to something: Not only are their options really cute, but buying a bikini from a lingerie purveyor gives me extra confidence that the cut will be flattering and the fit just right. I love this modified triangle style in bright violet—there's something about the way it gathers on the top and the double straps that strikes me as kind of disco-y but still very contemporary. The bottom ties at the sides and it's bare enough to be sexy, yet still offers enough coverage to wear around comfortably.

I've been a little fixated on my friend Emily's post from a few weeks ago about striped boatneck tops. In fact, I've probably clicked on it 96 times, gone to the website, almost bought the shirt, and then thought, "Wait, is $160 too expensive for what's basically a long-sleeved tee? But I want it! And it's eco! Yet it's still basically only a long-sleeved tee!" And on and on in my own little trying-to-be-responsible lameness. Since this tragedy started, I have seen some very cute, very similar pieces on eBay that are about an eighth of the price, for about 80 percent of the goodness. Should I acquiesce and purchase the original? Or do the right thing and pick up this, this, or this (or all three) and feel satisfied in my frugality and not-fulfilling-each-and-every-one-of-my-desires adultness?

I assumed, as I sat yesterday at the long Lancome-HQ conference table, that the new, electric oscillating mascara they have invented might be lovely, but the oscillating bit was perhaps a touch gimmicky.

Until I watched normal-lashed models apply the stuff to one eye each. Even without the aid of a makeup artist, special lighting, etc., the results were genuinely, unbelievably amazing. When I say that you can buy this and throw away your eyelash curler, throw away your contraband eyelash-growing balm, throw away your false eyelashes, even, your eyelash extensions—believe me. Huge, enormous, lengthy, thick, unclumpy, and did I mention huge lashes?

The general populace will be able to see and believe (or at least get on a waiting list) in November. You, however, have tomorrow. On lancome.com and sephora.com, they are selling it for one day (also in 17 stores across the country, but if you're like me and like the theory of a frenzy but not the claustrophobic reality, stick with the Internet).

—Jean Godfrey-June, beauty director

If you happen to be in NYC this week, Diptyque—the eternally chic French brand we honestly can never get enough of—is selling all its discontinued merchandise (candles, room sprays, eaux de toilette, soaps, gels, etc.) at discounts of 50% to 90% off.

Wednesday, July 30 through Friday, July 31, 10 AM–5 PM
Friday, August 1, 10 AM–3 PM
11 E. 26th St., Ste. 600, between Madison and Fifth Aves.
Cash and credit cards accepted; no checks, no returns.

Though I love and appreciate beautiful clothes, I've never been an expensive, statusy label person (I have therefore also never suffered from Label Tourette's, the disease where a person compliments your outfit and you compulsively blurt out "Marni!" or Prada!" because you need them to know). But if I were to spend anywhere near $1,000 on a designer dress, it would have to be from Mayle. Jane Mayle's pieces are just up my alley: They're feminine and unique, vintage-looking but also timeless, and just really gorgeous. Fortunately for us eBay obsessors, this is the kind of thing the site does best—I can't believe that I can find a cool, sailorish-looking Mayle item like this for potentially under $100 (original price $870). Or how about this sexy, offbeat skirt? The bidding starts at 20 bucks, while the retail price was $415. And last (for today anyway), an incredible, sophisticated, so-chic-I-could-die, tie-neck dress coat for just $180 (you save: $500).

Despite being pretty fanatical about sunscreen (I'm obsessed with Colorescience's powder version, which I use daily and might be my favorite beauty product of all time), after reading the umpteenth article about premature aging I've been thinking I ought to find a hat to wear at the beach. My criteria are that it's inexpensive (I'll only use it at the beach or pool, and I don't go nearly as much as I'd like), packable, and doesn't look too dorky or matronly the way sun hats often do. After striking out in the women's department, I've settled on this crushable Aussie style I spotted in the men's section at llbean.com. It's only $20 and, as the name suggests, it's meant to be taken on the road. In the customer reviews, one guy even said he'd brought one on a trip to Morocco and although he smashed and folded it a million times, it still retained its shape. It's made of breathable, moisture-wicking cloth, so you don't have to worry about overheating, and it looks classic and coolly rugged, in an Indiana Jones-in-the-outback kind of way.

You know how there's always that one style element you just can't master, and as hard as you try, it continues on as your shopping Achilles' heel? Well, mine is jewelry. Thing is—unlike boots or jeans or dresses—I don't really understand my jewelry personality. I'm certainly not sparkly fancy or too prim (an ex once bought me expensive pearls and I cried; I'd really wanted a bike), and I don't like anything too trendy or garish. What this means is I don't commit to the good stuff and wind up with random tarnished hoops and cheap bracelets that break and plastic rings that make me look like I'm in third grade. However this morning, while I was trying to find a vessel to put all my crap jewels in, I came across something genius: jewelry boxes already filled with jewelry. Imagine just getting a box of pretty vintage brooches and Mad Men-esque clip-on earrings and feminine necklaces that you didn't have to pick out yourself. It makes the whole accessories experience low-pressure and fun, akin to playing dress-up. Check them out here and here and here—oh, and bonus: You get to keep the cool retro boxes too.