Ulta Beauty pulls out all the stops for sales, and its latest is no exception. While it doesn’t have the historic sale caché of Memorial Day or Labor Day, Fourth of July has evolved into a sale-worthy event in its own right—one that Ulta is helping us prep for with its own Summer Beauty Sale. Now through July 4, shop 34 pages of beauty products on sale (it’s a good kind of overwhelming). Below, our editors sifted through the makeup, skin care, and hair products for the hidden favorites you can’t miss.
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No one knows the life-changing power of hair color better than Sophie Turner. The 22-year-old actress and face of Wella Professionals is a natural blond, but in her biggest roles to date—as Sansa Stark on HBO’s Game of Thrones and as Jean Grey in next year’s X-Men: Dark Phoenix—she slays as a redhead. We had the opportunity to talk with the breakout star, who’s engaged to DNCE front man Joe Jonas, about how she uses hair color as a reflection of her emotional state and who her current girl crush is. (Spoiler alert: It’s Cardi B.)
Glamour: Will you try a new hair color once GOT and X-Men wrap?
Sophie Turner: I would definitely consider dyeing my hair brunette or something crazier like a bright pink. I’m not sure what mind-state I’ll be in once Game of Thrones ends, so I might want to stay just like Sansa and keep the red. We’ll see!
Glamour: You tend to go with classic waves when your hair is red. What’s your favorite way to style it when you’re blond?
ST: I like to leave it natural and let my hair do its own thing—I had it cut a little shorter recently, which felt edgier. All I do is put in an antifrizz balm, and I’m good to go.
Glamour: What’s your hair care routine?
ST: I use Wella Fusionplex shampoo and conditioner every other day. It protects hair from heat damage, which is amazing, because when you’re on set, it’s always being curled or straightened. And I put on Wellaplex No. 3 Hair Stabilizer mask while I tidy up my room and watch an episode of 90 Day Fiancé.
Glamour: Has acting changed your approach to beauty?
ST: When I see myself onscreen with bad hair or bad skin, it affects me. The world can see it. It’s important for me to maintain a healthy lifestyle to keep my skin and hair looking their best.
Glamour: Who’s your current beauty inspiration?
ST: I love the way Zoë Kravitz changes it up so often. Like her hair: One minute it’s short, the next she has dreads, and then she’s blond. And Cardi B is killing it. Every look is so amazing and transformative.
At a time when laws are cracking down on influencers to be more transparent, Jackie Aina rises above the #sponcon. Since launching her YouTube channel over a decade ago, the 31-year-old’s refreshing candor has earned her a reputation for telling it like is. She calls out brands when they’re not inclusive, holds other influencers accountable for offensive remarks, and doesn’t shy away from tough discussions about colorism in the industry. She’ll also make you laugh your ass off.
Not only has it landed her lucrative makeup collaborations, it’s led to actual change in the industry—the latest being Too Faced’s expanded range of Born This Way foundations, which she helped create. Ahead of the launch, the beauty mogul reflects on the pressure to be the voice of a revolution and why she won’t be quiet.
When I started my YouTube channel in 2009, my goal was never to be an “influencer.” I was in the military, far away from friends and family, and really lonely. The one thing that always made me feel better was makeup.
Originally, I think part of me wanted to get on camera to show that not every person who serves their country is rough and rugged. You can be feminine and fight for freedom. So I filmed a few tutorials in my uniform, and the response was crazy. People loved that I wasn’t this out-of-reach makeup artist—just a regular girl.
Then, around 2015, I was feeling less excited by my channel and realized that I was trying to be too “professional” instead of showing my true crazy self. And that’s when I had my first viral video: a parody on all the weird beauty trends (like crazy eyebrows) from that year. Being myself paid off—I think that’s why I now have more than 2 million subscribers on YouTube.
As my fan base grew, beauty brands started sending me lots of products. But it was disappointing to receive things that wouldn’t work for my skin tone. So I really began to take on more of a voice for the black beauty community, critiquing brands that aren’t inclusive.
Some days I have to say, “Kitchen’s closed,” and log off social media.
It’s always been a tough balance. It’d be easier to water down my content—I feel like a lot of people thought that once I hit a certain milestone, 1 million subscribers, then 2 million, I’d stop talking about race or “political stuff,” as so many people call it. I don’t think it’s political; I’m just talking about experiences that are true to me. My goal is to always make people of color feel good when they come to my channel. It’s not just about putting on lipstick. It’s about people feeling beautiful, not intimidated. I’ve learned that as long as I feel passionate about a critique, it’s important to stand by it.
One downside of using my voice? People expect me to have an opinion on everything. Just because I don’t always comment on political issues doesn’t mean I don’t care about them—it just means I can’t take on the weight of everything. Some days I have to say, “Kitchen’s closed,” and log off social media.
But I’ll gladly take on all those frustrations because my platform has given me the power to make a difference. For example, I recently teamed up with Too Faced Cosmetics to help expand its Born This Way foundation range (which comes out today) and make sure the undertones would actually work for women of color. Jerrod Blandino, the cofounder and chief creative officer of Too Faced, could have hired anyone he wanted to help him on this project. Instead he gave a black woman a seat at the table and let me do my thing. He gave me a voice on this issue that is so important to me, and the ability to make a real change. That’s huge!
PHOTO: Jackie Aina
Aina with the swatches from the new collaboration
I’m really proud of the darkest shade, Ganache. After multiple tries (it kept pulling a little too red), we finally got it right, and it’s beautiful. I was so glad they were willing to keep at it. We created nine new shades, and now the line’s full spectrum has 35 colors.
Inclusion doesn’t stop at foundation, though, and that’s what I hope all beauty brands can take away from this movement. Can I use your lipsticks? Are your eyeshadows pigmented enough to show up on my skin tone? Do you have blushes that work for me? For so many brands, I still can’t use anything; it’s literally only for light skin. We still have work to do, and I won’t stop talking about it until it’s done.
For more on Jackie’s collaboration with Too Faced—and to shop the line—click here.
I was four when I was initiated into the powwow circle to dance. In my dad’s tribe, Ho-chunk, you’re given an honor song to welcome you in, and my mom made me my own jingle dress to dance in—it’s a colorful “healing” dress traditionally made of the bones of deer toes that clank as the dancer moves and lifts her fan to spread good health to the people around her. Now the dresses are made with rows of metal cones.
These traditions make me proud to be Native, and yet, when I was growing up, society made me feel ashamed of my heritage. At school I was one of only 10 indigenous kids in a class of hundreds. My reservation, Sandia Pueblo, was just outside Albuquerque, New Mexico, yet most of my classmates knew nothing about Native people. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen some oversexualized Poca-hottie costume or been asked whether I live in a tepee. (The answer is no.) One time, when I dropped my books in the hallway, kids started dancing around me, making war whooping sounds. All I wanted in that moment was to cut off my long hair. It’d be so much easier to go to school if I were white, I thought.
Thankfully, I had my dance studio, where I could dance it all out and feel better. I began to practice ballet and jazz in my teens, but I still loved how expressive indigenous dance was. Once I graduated high school, I pursued both professionally. But for years I kept being typecast as the “Native girl” or “indigenous princess,” even when auditioning for Western roles. Now, at 27, I’m tired of it, which is why I’ve reenrolled in school to study indigenous liberal studies and business. My dream is to open my own indigenous dance company and tell Native stories through contemporary and classical dance. I want to show how nuanced and resilient my people are. There’s real beauty in our culture when it’s not appropriated.
PHOTO: LeRoy Grafe
Attend a powwow, and you’ll understand. They’re huge gatherings that are filled with food, song, and dance. Everyone shows up in beautiful beadwork—our regalia (we don’t call them costumes) are like works of art. There are different outfits based on your dance, like the fancy shawl that mimics the colors and grace of a butterfly. For my eagle dance, my family made me wings out of feathers (pictured above). They represent spiritual strength and transformation. I can feel the energy of the eagle when I have them on.
Hair and makeup also play a huge role. During the dancing contests, you’re judged on your footwork and your presentation. But more than that, the beauty rituals offer a deep bonding experience. Native people think of our hair as having its own life. We don’t cut it—it’d be like cutting off a limb—so it’s a sign of trust to have someone braid yours. It’s also a misconception that every Native woman wears her hair in two braids. In certain communities, like my dad’s, we wear a ponytail with beads and a wrap around the back. In my mom’s tribe, Sandia Pueblo, we wear our hair down all the time. Our elders have the most beautiful, long silver gray hair.
I finally taught myself how to braid after years of practice for my powwow dances. You want your braids nice and tight, so they don’t unravel while you’re dancing. I use hairspray (lately I’ve been really into Pantene) and a comb to tightly pull every strand into place, then I wrap them in shoestring. My feather is the last to go on since it’s so delicate.
PHOTO: LeRoy Grafe
PHOTO: LeRoy Grafe
PHOTO: LeRoy Grafe
We don’t wear any makeup on my reservation, but I wear a lot to dance. The eagle dance is expressive and regal, so I want my makeup to reflect that. I’ll usually start with white and gold eyeshadow, which I put around my eyes and feather out, kind of like Black Swan, then down my nose to create a beak. Then I draw a slick wing using a good waterproof eyeliner (like Stila’s Stay All Day), along with a swipe of Benefit’s They’re Real Mascara. It doesn’t budge at all. I use Anastasia Beverly Hills Brow Powder Duo on my brows because it blends really well.
The last thing I put on is a really vibrant red lipstick and sometimes face paint. Women are starting to reclaim it, as a visual unifier at all the protests happening now. Whether dancing or marching for my people’s rights, it puts me into warrior mode—ready to feel the drum.
Logan Browning is having a major moment right now. The breakout actress just wrapped up the second season of her hit Netflix series Dear White People and is slated to star in the upcoming horror-thriller The Perfection (alongside Girls alum Allison Williams). Over the last year, she’s also become the picture of red carpet perfection owning her ever-evolving style and natural curls. We chatted with the skin-obsessed, Atlanta-born star about everything—from multi-masking to her bouncy curl secret to the sisterhood that Time’s Up has created in Hollywood. Here are the highlights:
Glamour: You’re all about skin. What aspect of it are you the most focused on?
Logan Browning: I have sensitive, acne-prone, stress-me-out skin. I get up in the morning and run to the mirror to be like, OK, we’re good. Then, before I even leave work, I take off my makeup with Bioderma Micellar Water. And I use masks as cleansers when my skin acts up—they calm my business down. Also, I notice a huge difference in my skin when I’m taking zinc, omega-3, and turmeric.
Glamour: Who are your beauty crushes?
LB: My favorite thing to google is “young Zoë Kravitz,” to see her on the carpet with her parents. Now you can see that she’s really homed in on who she is as a beauty icon—someone who is strong and sexy and always keeps you on your toes.
Glamour: It’s impossible not to discuss your amazing hair. Some intel, please.
LB: I am a DevaCurl hag. As a curly girl, it took me a long time to find what works. In the shower I detangle section by section. I use their No Poo-Original, Heaven in Hair, and mix B’Leave-In with Arc Angel Gel. I twist it up in a towel turban and let it air-dry because I like my hair to be really big. Then there’s a lot of shaking and pulling.
Glamour: After years of it straight, why did you start wearing your hair natural?
LB: I thought that straight hair made me pretty. And [when I was] growing up in the South, getting my hair done once a week was a thing. By college, I had never seen it curly. I was curious. I don’t even know how to explain the feeling that I get from being a curly girl. There’s a whole new personality.
Glamour: What would you tell your 13-year-old self?
LB: Actually, I would really want to hear from her, have her remind me of what she wanted and what her dreams were.
Glamour: As a woman in Hollywood, how has Time’s Up shifted your industry view?
LB: I realize how much I have hidden from myself: the times I’ve been uncomfortable, the times people have been inappropriate toward me or when I felt powerless. Now everyone is genuinely encouraging and empowering each other—I feel like I have a big sister who has my back.
Still, one person’s progress may be another person’s skepticism. Following the big announcement, responses were predictably mixed: Some said scrapping the swimsuits is unnecessary, while others argued that change is long overdue.
This shift is a clear departure from the pageant’s lengthy history of judging women by their physical appearance. (Miss America’s own website details how the event began as “photographic popularity contests” in the 1920s.) Whether it was determining who sashayed most gracefully in formal wear or who strutted most confidently in a bikini, Miss America—like many other pageants at the national, regional, and local levels—dutifully employed a rigorous system of graded performances to determine who would take home that glittery crown.
But now that’s all changing. Several former and current beauty queens opened up to Glamour about what makes Miss America’s announcement significant, their time on the pageant circuit, and how they really feel about slinking around in those swimsuits.
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