Wednesday, May 25, 2016

My Lips Are Pursed




I have an addiction.  It’s not serious. It’s lipstick. And, I’m not alone.

I see other addicts like me on YouTube and Instagram. They take pride in their dependency, posting enormous “lipstick collections” with taglines like: “I’m obsessed!”

I, too, am obsessed, but I’m not proud of it.

Last November, Buzz feed listed “23 Things Only Girls Who Are Addicted To Lipstick Know To Be True…” A puff-piece, but for me, it read as one of those lists – “If you-relate-to-at-least-10-items-on-on-this-list-you-have-a-problem.”

I can relate to all 23.

It started when I turned fifty. That’s the year I began the pursuit of “the right color” lipstick.  My standby YSL #10 just wasn’t doing the trick anymore. Despite the hint of pink, something about the pigment on my aging lips, or perhaps it was my half-century-old complexion. Even with lipstick, I began to look all one color – and worse, a desperate older woman trying to rock the nude-lip.

I’m no great beauty trying to hang on to her looks. The Paparazzi don’t follow me, and my job does not depend on my appearance. I’m the girl-next-door, the fresh-faced type that isn’t feeling so fresh anymore. So began my endless pursuit to find the right shade of lipstick. Corals, reds, even plums, but I kept going back to a more natural “nude pink” to give me a lift. The trick is finding just the right shade.

Unfortunately, I am only satisfied with a new nude pink lipstick for a day or two. Maybe, a week at best.

Some people turn to the bottle or pop pills. I, instead, turn to the make-up counter at Bloomingdale’s. The swipe of a new lip color is my fix. If I am having a bad day, something about a bright counter gleaming with a rainbow of pinks in glistening tubes cheers me up. It’s what my mother calls “an uppy.” It gives me a high when I paint my lips a new color, even better when an eager salesperson looks on: “That’s shade’s great on you! Shows off your eyes!”

What’s to hate? Right?

I thank heaven for those prehistoric Mesopotamian women who were the first to discover the charms of lip color. There they were, grinding out precious gems. And, voila - a shimmering dust from their riches to decorate their lips! God love ‘em.

My addiction was creep-mousy, slowly sneaking up on me until I realized I had filled an entire make-up drawer in the bathroom with lipstick – all basically some shade of light pink, and the drawer even getting heavier to roll out from the weight of them.  Dare I count?

“It’s a part of me I’ll never give up,” so says item #23 on the list of things only girls who are addicted to lipstick know for sure.

Not long ago, I found just the right pink. Dior Addict - Kiss Me #389.  

Shaped like a syringe. I thought I was finally satisfied.

Problem is, I’m already over it, finding myself at Bloomingdale’s
yesterday afternoon, in front of a line-up of Bobbie Brown lipsticks.

“May I help you find the right lipstick?” offered the man behind the counter.

I thought back to my bathroom drawer. What am I doing?

“I think I’m ok,” I replied, eyeing the pinks. “Just looking.”

He began explaining the texture types in the different tubes. Little did he know, I’m practically a scholar in all things lipstick. “Now, this one," he said, pointing to one of the lipstick's. "This one would be perfect pink for you."

My sister has teased that I need a sponsor. Who do I call? “Help! I’m buying another frigging pink lipstick!”

Enough.  This is ridiculous. I’m going to stop buying lipstick for three months. I love a challenge, but can I hold back from getting my fix?

Well, I’m going to try, and I’ll let you know on August 25th where you’ll probably find me at the Bobbie Brown counter trying on that “perfect pink.”

                                                ______________________

Epilogue

After reading my draft, my husband, Hank, had one comment: “You’ll never make it to August 25th.”

























1 comment:

  1. What a talent you are Heather....I am going to read all your musings...it was so great to see you and Hank at the Kaye's
    Lisa and I can say we knew you when
    Keep up the funny, pithy, witty stories
    Your pal
    Ron

    ReplyDelete