My Barbies were usually naked. Once, I took their heads off, cut their hair, drew on their short, spiky hair with some markers, then stuck the heads on Christmas lights. Every year, we'd string our tree with those Barbie heads. It looked demonic. My parents were so cool - they saw it as a form of self-expression.
I've been involved with sports my whole life, which made clothes and makeup and handbags not that important as a kid. I just didn't care.
My grandmother, whom we call Biel, thinks it's very unbecoming of me not to smile for the paparazzi. So every time I see them, I think, 'Smile for Biel!'
In the car on my way to premieres and awards shows, I'll sit with tissue paper under my armpits so I don't soil the delicate dress fabric. The whole time, I'm telling myself, 'Please don't sweat, please don't sweat.' I throw the tissues out right before I step out of the car, and nobody ever knows! I just put on a smile and fake it.
I trust my makeup artist to apply dark lipstick, but I get nervous about reapplying it, so I'll just use gloss instead. The last time I tried to reapply dark lipstick, I dropped it on my dress and it left a spot.