Thank God I was blessed with a mouth. Not your standard size average white girl mouth. 

I have a big mouth. Honestly I have big hands and feet also; but I’ll save that for shoes and gloves. My mother and my sister have no lips. Me – lips are my command. Eventually I am quite sure I’ll have them replumped to maintain the facial balance and blow job lips I have come to adore.

I am finding with a little aging, that the features on my face are becoming more prominent; even as everything else starts to get run down by gravity. Needless to say, orally fixated as I am, I have a mountainous collection of lipsticks and various applications of treatments.

As a little girl, I remember hearing the song, “Lipstick on your Collar”, and singing all of the words all day long. I used to watch my mother smoke her KOOL cigarettes and leave a lipstick mark on the filter. I loved the way the color would feather and smudge along the smooth fabricated paper wrapping. I would always see them in the ashtray next to our small pink bathtub. It seemed to be the only exotic thing about my mother at the time. Those sticks smeared with color and smashed in a clear glass ashtray.

Imagine glass ashtrays in the bathroom with three kids?

{It was much better back then}

I started wearing lipstick regularly when I was eleven. The usual suspects of brands and color were applied. Revlon, Cover Girl, MAX Factor. The brands that were readily available at the market or pharmacy. The ones that were cheap or could be slipped into your pocket; even though they had those fancy two-way mirrors that we were so sure had really stupid people watching us all the time. I can still remember completely the layout of that store that has since been made “Super”. Now I am reminded of the Christmas aisles and how they would do the end-caps with special lipstick TRIOS and packages of MATCHING face palettes.

It was like heaven! I would dream of getting all of those treats in my stocking. And also a lifesaver book; like that little girl down the street always got and I never did.

{Okay, gonna cry. Sorry pmdd.  Inhale deeply}

I experimented with the reds but was more prone to a red fedora on my Marilyn blonde head and only recently started to wear red with utter confidence as it should be worn. It’s something that comes with age, I am certain.

Today, I wear mostly NARS, Lipstick Queen and MAC reds. Always on a deeper side of the street in color and only occasionally a Jungle Red.

During the years that were made up of hormones mixed with angst; I was always a Berry girl. I would wear pretty much any shade in the plum family. Rarely a raspberry – too sparkly against my skin. These years also comprised the ones that contained my first marriage to the self-appointed, Duke all those years ago.

It was then in a lovely first floor apartment, off base of the military establishment he called work and I called drunkfest; that I found a cigarette in the ashtray with somebody else’s lipstick on it. In my house. The house that I was playing wife in. With no money, no car and no friends.

“Goddamn it! Another girl’s lipstick in my fucking ashtray?”

I flipped, needless to say it was a very long week and quite frankly I’m all huffy puffy again.

The browns were during the years when my kids were babies and I was natural and gross. My ideas and values were wonderful and I cherish them. But the fact is, I was a disaster to look at. I was very much stuck in the idea that in order to be a good mom and wife I had to look dumpy and wear clothes from JJill.

{And yes, the Birks that I still love so dearly, but KNOW they really look eehh}

I was wearing Origins & Aveda still (just not brown) when I had a freakishly odd reaction to an Origins’ gumball, in the middle of a MACYS.  I choked out and havent used Origins since.

DIOR Addict or almost any mauve is my nude. It works. Always. Gorgeous, delicious, sometimes sticky but I don’t care! Dark long full lashes and that almost sparkly but not full glossy lip… works every time.

{The eyes are mostly covered by some fashion of shade….oooh I love sunglasses}

The lips – everybody always sees them.  Unless your are a cover your mouth talker like my sister was when she had braces for three years.  I assume the first place we all look is where the noise is coming from. It is impossible for me to have a conversation with somebody WHOM I LIKE without engaging in their oral features. Period.

I also really like to give head; another story yes, but very sexy and a powerful feature everybody possesses. Food for thought.

               Lipstick on your collar told a tale on you
Lipstick on your collar said you were untrue
Bet your bottom dollar you and I are through
Cuz lipstick on your collar told a tale on you, yeah

Lipstick on Your Collar – Connie Francis

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