Notes on Beauty Journal
I couldn’t help but wonder… was it the serum I used? The way the light fell just after 7:45? Or maybe it was one of those rare mornings where I felt like myself without trying.
Some moments pass too quickly to hold, but you try anyway. The skin was glowing. The lip was just right. And something about the way you got ready made the whole day feel different.
This journal is for that. Not to track progress. Not to perfect a routine. But to remember how beauty appeared and stayed.
A place to keep your rituals close. What you reached for. What made you feel like you. The details you would want to relive again, even if only for yourself.
Hardcover. Linen-bound with embroidered text on the front and back. 96 pages. Meant to be filled slowly. Meant to be seen. Left open on your vanity like an unfinished sentence.
I couldn’t help but wonder… was it the serum I used? The way the light fell just after 7:45? Or maybe it was one of those rare mornings where I felt like myself without trying.
Some moments pass too quickly to hold, but you try anyway. The skin was glowing. The lip was just right. And something about the way you got ready made the whole day feel different.
This journal is for that. Not to track progress. Not to perfect a routine. But to remember how beauty appeared and stayed.
A place to keep your rituals close. What you reached for. What made you feel like you. The details you would want to relive again, even if only for yourself.
Hardcover. Linen-bound with embroidered text on the front and back. 96 pages. Meant to be filled slowly. Meant to be seen. Left open on your vanity like an unfinished sentence.
I couldn’t help but wonder… was it the serum I used? The way the light fell just after 7:45? Or maybe it was one of those rare mornings where I felt like myself without trying.
Some moments pass too quickly to hold, but you try anyway. The skin was glowing. The lip was just right. And something about the way you got ready made the whole day feel different.
This journal is for that. Not to track progress. Not to perfect a routine. But to remember how beauty appeared and stayed.
A place to keep your rituals close. What you reached for. What made you feel like you. The details you would want to relive again, even if only for yourself.
Hardcover. Linen-bound with embroidered text on the front and back. 96 pages. Meant to be filled slowly. Meant to be seen. Left open on your vanity like an unfinished sentence.
For the ones who romanticize getting ready.
The ones who remember what they wore on nights that changed things. Who keep travel-size perfumes tucked in every bag and write down lipstick names like they’re song lyrics.
The kind of gift a bride might receive from someone who knows the getting ready part is just as special. And for the one just starting to care again—even a little.
Notes on Beauty isn’t something you rush through. It’s meant to live beside your favourite things—half-written, dog-eared, and small enough to slip into your bag. Not every day will end up on the page. But some will. And those are the ones worth keeping.