Unearthed Jewel No. 10….Lipstick!

I felt something was “off” the other day when I was getting ready. I realized, I have misplaced almost all my lipsticks currently. I am sure they are around somewhere but between, my car, purse, backpack, office, endless errands and due to having a dog that likes to chew them up, I found myself lipstick-less and my mother would call that a sin. “Just another day” for me always includes some type of lipstick, gloss or balm. Being a child of the 80’s, a teenager in the 90’s, and a daughter of a hair stylist, lipstick is as habitual as breathing. As far as my mom is concerned, lipstick held almost just as much importance as Jesus. Just as Sunday morning sermons were essential to her life, so is the daily application of a good lipstick. To my mom, no outfit is ever complete without the perfect matching shade of tint. Never, did she ever, get out of the car without reapplying her perfect chosen hue for that day. How could she keep it all straight? from within her purse she would extract a smaller make up bag with a plethora of lip liners, lipsticks, glosses, and the like. She could always locate the exact cocktail of liner and color that day held for her. Blotting was overrated and something her coffee cup or cigarette was for. To her, the more vivid the color and shiny, the better! No matter the dress or outfit I am wearing, or trying on, my mother comments to this day that it will look better with some lipstick on. My fair complexion is always a reason in her mind that I need a color added to my lips. She also sees it as a mood enhancer or a form of nurturing. Any time I am upset or feeling defeated, you can bet at some point she will tell me to, “go put some lipstick on and you’ll feel better.” That to her is the same, if not better than a hug. A salesman I use to work for, always reminded me that the three things that survived the depression was alcohol, cigarettes, and make-up. I am sure lipstick was a huge part of the continued make-up sales during that time. Women have always been drawn to add color to their lips. Even in ancient civilizations they would crush red beetles, berries, and mix clay dirt to achieve the perfect color. Certain colors have been worn to ward off evil spirits and to bring good luck. Prisoners in concentrations camps would pinch their cheeks and bite their lips to add color and to look more youthful in hopes of some advantage for survival. Marylin Monroe was known for mixing many colors together to achieve a perfected pigmentation. She knew very well the power of a fascinating shade for her iconic pouty kissers. My perfect friend one time ask me why I was applying lipstick late at night before bed. I really had no answer other than “duhh!” I took for granted that the women in the beauty shop I was often around were not like other mothers. Sure, my mom wanted me to be healthy, but the right eye and lip color was way more important than getting my daily greens or broccoli. Every woman has her own style of shade. I love dark colors. Think 1920’s fair skin with a dark lip contrast. Last week, I went into a cosmetic store in search of a new shade. Overwhelmed by the choices, I needed help. I’ve read that women in their 40’s should stay away from dark colors, the one’s I love. The colors my mom would call, “dead colors.” (emoji eyeroll, yet a pirate smile at the same time.) To her, if it’s not fuchsia, its not a color! There are so many, and so many versions. Hues of pink, brown, peach, glossy, matte, sparkly, hell…I’ve worn blue before. I was approached by Vanessa, pronoun to be determined, but the name is Vanessa. Who by the way had a perfectly applied liner and shade. How could I resist this help? Vanessa offered to apply some samples and I agreed. Vanessa’s love for make-up was evident and I felt some kind of familiar comfort in that. The no apologies, “all in” approach took me back to being around all the ladies of the beauty shop in the 80’s. Vanessa and I had a great time. I told about my mom and how she styled hair for years and loved to make people feel beautiful. Vanessa applied some “safe” colors I knew my mom would call dead and not approve of. Then, Vanessa suggested a red! Not a shiny bight one my mom would rejoice about, but definitely a step beyond the neutrals and one that made me feel…happy! One that echoed those women of the 20’s with their short bobs, dark lips, and nylon stockings. That was my color. Vanessa had done it! Even Marylin herself would have been proud. My mother even said, it was better than my normal dull choices. In my 40 something years of age, I was happy to please her with my purchase that day. As we talked, I smiled and noticed her pink lipstick ring on the side of her coffee cup she was holding with her beautifully painted nails and aged hands that had for years, made people feel happy and beautiful.