A ny girl, big or small, loves her lip gloss. It’s a smart way to charm a crying three-year-old girl into silence, or freshen up your face after a grueling day at work. It’s also excellent at fixing scuffmarks on your shoes. Promise.
I had my first lip balm when I was in third grade. It was Bonne Bell and the flavor was cola. Back then it already seemed a little risqué. Lipstick after all has had, if anything, a controversial reputation. Whether it’s crushed gemstones (Mesopotamian) or the beetles and ants of Cleopatra, the need to color one’s lips was both an act of seduction and rebellion.
So here I was, a 10-year-old harlot with lips that oozed with cola. It was the beginning of a very co-dependent relationship with lip color. My first real lipstick was CoverGirl Lipslicks, the color was Barely Bronze and it made me look like I gobbled a cone of chocolate ice cream. I’ve never been the subtle type and I piled on that product as if my life depended on it. My mother at this point stopped telling me that I looked like a cannibal as my lips pranced about with 10 layers of gloss. Let’s not forget I had Parkinsons-like hands so it was all over my face.
In so many ways this was what adulthood was: messy, inglorious and slightly embarrassing, but you just had to own it. Lipstick is a symbol of womanhood. Whether its phallic insinuations were intended or merely coincidental, having lipstick in your purse was like having boobs in your bra. Even women who don’t wear makeup have at least an odd tube of lipstick somewhere, even if they’re part of a commune or cult. Okay, maybe only in places where there are also bras.
My first real tube came from my cousin, Anna. I mean, I had discarded Estee Lauders here and there, but that tube of MAC Marrakesh lipstick was the first real color that I wore. As in every day. I was 16 and I had lips the color of a gaping wound. She gave it to me during the elections. My dad and mom were running and I had to go along with them. Anna was so kind and she just knew campaigning was killing me. She then gave me her extra tube of lipstick to cheer me up and I wore it all summer. That delicious MAC smell was so adult.
After that summer of campaigning (they won, yay!), my parents treated me to a trip to California. At the heart of the suburban mall, I finally bought my first legit lipstick that became my look for the year. Regrettably, with all the iconic beauties I could have emulated, I had to choose the cholas from the mall. So here I was with MAC Spice lip liner traced on my lips filled with a nice little light MAC gloss (I forgot the color and it was probably discontinued). Chola.
I rocked that look with really bad Urban Outfitter clothes. It was a defining moment.
I have to say I really stuck by MAC for my lip needs. I bought a Laura Mercier called Tiffany because I had a dog named Tiffany but that’s about it. I loved that MAC doesn’t promise anything except that it pays for AIDS research. It is what it is. The very essence of what I learned in my spiritual retreat last Easter. As Albert Einstein said, “Things just need to be made simple, but not simpler.”
Anyway, I wore loads of nude hues most especially MAC Revealing lip gloss throughout my days until I was 30! I think I was too into kissing boys and drinking so that lip color was seen as an impediment.
They say a woman’s sexuality peaks when she turns 30. Well, this was my lipstick peak. I started wearing red lipstick, and all the Catholic shame and whore fear dissolved. The shade was Lancome’s L’Absolu Rouge. I was hooked!
My male friends hated it. The women (even my older friends) were inspired and started wearing red too. It was a great time for red. This was the time shimmery ‘70s call girl pink was in vogue. Red is like that friend you love, but you know will sleep with your husband. It’s dangerous and seductive.
Then I felt that bold violets and magentas like Nars Schiap would have the same devil-may-care vibe. They did not. They just screamed trendzoid.
Now I like to eat and drink beverages without straws, so this red lipstick thing was not sustainable.
These days I dot on random Chanel lip glosses. I really don’t know where they came from but it seems like my entire bathroom is filled with them! I think they were bought on those many days I wanted to buy a Chanel purse but couldn’t, so I bought a lipstick instead.
I’m reading this article and I feel so blonde. Yet I will wake up tomorrow and, after a refreshing shower, I know that the first thing I’ll look for is my Chanel Confidence lip gloss. It’s too relevant in my life.