The Ramblings of a Red-Lipped Woman
Rebecca Williamson
A Fleeting Memory of a Used Idea
I found it interesting that I would remember an old, beloved idea before I had an assignment due. The idea was triggered by friends who spat dozens of different mundane objects at me since I had too many thoughts floating around. A smile graced my face when one of them said it, making me remember an incident from freshman year.
I remember I was a lowly freshman who had just joined a new, still unregistered, writing club at Geneseo. Editors above me brainstormed and published idea after idea. They sat in a circle, each laptop decorated and defined who they were. I can only recall a few: an LGBTQ sticker, a cat, pink protective covers. They shared their thoughts proudly without any filter. I wanted to be like them. I felt confident in my words but not settled.
It’s amazing what a little bit of makeup could do. A red lipstick that a friend declared “wasn’t their color” became mine by default. She tilted my head back, showing me how to use the bold color. It was more complicated than a quick swipe across my lips like I thought. Light brushes, very carefully outlining my lips before filling in the rest. I purse and pucker as instructed before turning my head to the glass. A new woman peered back at me in the mirror. I knew then that this is what I had to write about. All other ideas were thrown from my mind until I could complete my analysis of red lipstick.
Things That Have Regained Their Power
The first time I donned a ruby lip was at a sweet sixteen party. My parents told me I looked good, and I loved my strapless dress. Yet there was one odd comment I never expected. “Why are you wearing that color lipstick?” My dad, who never commented on anything, hated red lipstick. Taken aback, I muttered that I liked it, and my mom backed me up. My dad never said anything about it again, but my red became decidedly dimmer until that fateful day freshman year.
Wearing that bold Morphe awakened a new woman. I sat, fingers flying across the keyboard much like they do now, writing about why women should wear red lipstick. The wrong shade of red can be easily fixed. Red lipstick doesn’t portray aggression; society just forces women to appear delicate. Red lipstick isn’t a sign of a whore or a slut. An object—a simple tube of red lipstick—doesn’t define who a woman is.
A cherry lip is empowering. A woman who can strut down the street rocking the shade has taken back her power. She is no longer afraid of being criticized or judged because she is comfortable in her skin.
Annoying Things
When fingers slip, and the wax covers the chin. Or cheeks. Tainted crimson must be licked off teeth. It’s smudged, meaning it’s time to start over. Try again. There is nothing else I can say about this one.
People who shame a girl for “marking” a boy, meaning that the lips are covered with remnants of scarlet. I had never heard that word until it happened to a friend. A little leftover is the burden of lipstick. If a boy doesn’t know how to handle it maturely, don’t kiss a woman who wears lipstick.
A formula that doesn’t last long. A few hours will pass, and women have to touch it up. It’s a waste of time that could be fixed with the right brand.
A glass touches the lips, fingers curled as the cool liquid runs down your throat. When the glass is lowered, a stain remains. A tip I learned is to lick the lips. I will have to try it next time.
Removing makeup after a long night. Wipes that leave the taste of alcohol in your mouth and a tinge of red on your lips. It will come off fully in the shower eventually.
Empowering Things
Swatching the sample shades at the store. Bright shades, bold shades, all the reds cover the backs of hands. When the perfect match is found, a woman knows she’s won.
Red lips never go out of style. A purple is pretty, but it’s not the fiery historical and cultural phenomenon. I looked up the history of red lipstick. Did you know that Hitler hated red, so women wore it as a political statement? What—for lack of a better word—badass women.
A cute print on a lover’s cheek. The lover understands and simply wipes it away, unlike the boys who giggle and sneer.
A woman perfecting the art of lip makeup. She knows when to use a lip liner and how to blend it well. It looks easy when she does it. I haven’t gotten the hang of it yet. The daunting task of tracing makes my hand quiver.
What I Imagine
Mastering this unique art. The quiver disappears with time and practice. I don’t even need a liner. I’m that good. My lip is immaculate.
Wearing red all the time. No special occasion needed. It’s because I feel like it. Under the masks that hide the bottom half of my face because it’s the new normal. In virtual classes, the camera on or off. Any time I leave the house.
If red lips ruled the world. A powerful red lip in the White House. A doctor in a lab coat who just cured cancer. A humble teacher that educates today’s youth. A firefighter who hoses down wildfires. Or a detective who solves a crime and puts a real criminal in jail. The list could go on. If red lips ruled the world, the stereotype of red lipstick is gone forever.
My Reality
I will never rule the world, but I could take control of my life. The first step: being comfortable in my skin to wear red lipstick whenever I feel like it.
The 18-year-old who thought she could change the world with one article would be proud.