As I observed my mother, she would deftly remove the cap from her luxurious gold lipstick tube, twisting the base to reveal a perfectly shaped, creamy orange stick. Leaning over the bathroom sink, she meticulously applied it: first gliding over her top lip, then the bottom, with smooth, confident strokes. After a moment, she would rub her lips together and lightly press them against a tissue, leaving behind a striking lipsticked imprint.
In my childhood, I marveled at her routine as she used brands like Estee Lauder, Lancome, Chanel, or Yves Saint Laurent. For her, it was never about the brand but rather the vibrant hue—a bold, unmistakable shade of orangey-red that she wore every day without fail. Whether at the gym, grocery shopping, or attending book club, she showcased this signature lip color. I remember accompanying her on Meals on Wheels deliveries, her lips adorned with that same color, even as she brought comfort to others in need. She wore it to school when pursuing her degree in interior design, greeting everyone with a smile, even when declining offers for help. It adorned her lips at both joyous and somber occasions, from weddings to funerals, and during visits to my daughters’ school for special events.
As a young girl, I yearned to wear lipstick like her, but in middle school, it was all about sticky lip gloss. It wasn’t until my late teens that I ventured to the Clinique counter, trying various shades of red and orange. A saleswoman suggested I lean toward pink, but I opted for a shimmery papaya, rarely donning it. Lipstick felt out of place on my thin upper lip and uneven pout. I questioned its necessity and why my mom insisted on wearing it daily.
In my twenties, I remained skeptical of lipstick, reserving it for formal events. I thought, why bother with makeup at the gym when it would just wash away? Who would care about my appearance while I shopped for groceries? Yet, as life unfolded, I came to realize the significance of presenting myself well.
The early days of my first child’s life were tumultuous, filled with stress and sleepless nights. Breastfeeding was challenging, and I found myself in a cycle of worry. Each morning, I looked in the mirror to see tired, raccoon-like eyes and dry, unappealing lips.
In a moment of desperation, I searched through my bathroom drawers and found Ruby Slipper, the shade I had worn on my wedding day. After applying it quickly, I glanced at my reflection—a still tired visage—but there was now a hint of vibrancy. That small splash of color shifted my mindset: I was present, ready to embrace motherhood.
As a new mother, I recognized the necessity of showing up—not just for myself, but for my child. My mother’s daily ritual of applying lipstick suddenly resonated with me. It’s a metaphor for embracing life, regardless of the circumstances—whether tackling laundry, studying for exams, or offering support to someone in need.
Now, I find myself wearing lipstick almost every day. When my mother suggests I apply some before heading out, whether for lunch or to pick up the kids, I gladly pull out my tube and join her in this small act of self-expression.
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Summary
The act of wearing lipstick, as learned from my mother, transcends aesthetics. It symbolizes presence and commitment in daily life. Despite initial resistance to makeup, I now embrace this practice as a means of showing up for myself and my family, understanding its deeper significance in navigating motherhood and life’s challenges.