My mother was the queen bee of the family. The one who wore the lipstick.
Ours is a family who doesn’t smoke, drink, curse, or otherwise wear cosmetics. Who only wears their wedding rings or crosses as jewelry. A family who are elders of their church.
Once, my cousin got me to put on Mom’s red lipstick and when I was discovered, I got my mouth washed out with soap by Granny.
I never wore lipstick again. That is, until my mother died. Then I began wearing her perfume, “Fracas,” and experimenting with color on my mouth.
I found that with it, I could say many things to others that I hadn’t been able to before. However, these were not things my mother would say. Things like “I’m not fat.” Or, “I’ll wear what I want.” Or, “I don’t like that,” when someone hurt my feelings or insulted my politics.
I choose to feel, like, and say what I want. And if I want, with red lipstick.
Lo Scriviti 