She unscrews the lid of a shimmering gold tube, revealing a vibrant orange stick. Leaning over the sink, she glides the lipstick across her lips—first the top, then the bottom—making smooth, deliberate strokes. After rubbing her lips together, she dabs them on a tissue, leaving behind a striking imprint.
As a young girl, I marveled as my mother applied her makeup, using brands like Estee Lauder, Lancome, and Yves Saint Laurent. It wasn’t about the brand for her; it was all about the color—a bold shade of orangey-red that became her signature. To this day, I can’t recall a moment when she didn’t wear it.
Whether at the gym, grocery store, or volunteering for Meals on Wheels, she always donned her lipstick. It accompanied her to book club meetings, when she helped her cousin battling cancer, and even during her return to school for an interior design degree. She wore it to funerals and weddings, and while hosting dignitaries, all the while flashing her warm smile.
Growing up, I eagerly anticipated the day I could wear lipstick like her. Yet, during middle school, the trend leaned towards sticky lip gloss. It wasn’t until my late teens that I dared to visit the Clinique counter, trying various shades of orange and red. Despite a saleswoman’s suggestion that pink would suit me better, I purchased a shimmering papaya hue, but it rarely saw the light of day. Lipstick just didn’t seem right for my thin upper lip and lopsided smile. I puzzled over why my mother wore it daily.
In my 20s, I dismissed lipstick altogether, reserving it for special occasions. I often scoffed at my mother’s habit. After all, who puts on makeup just to sweat at the gym or while shopping for groceries? Why should I bother “putting my face on” when my abilities should speak for themselves?
However, the turning point came when I had to face the challenges of motherhood. The early weeks with my first daughter were fraught with anxiety and sleepless nights. Nursing was a struggle, and my dreams of peaceful days were replaced by the frantic cries of a hungry baby. I found myself increasingly exhausted, staring at my reflection, which revealed dark circles and dry lips.
In search of some confidence, I dug out a tube of Ruby Slipper, the deep pink shade I had worn on my wedding day. As I applied it, I felt a small but significant change. I was still tired and maybe a bit ridiculous with just lipstick on my face, but that splash of color grounded me. It was a reminder that I was present, that I had to show up—not just for myself but for my daughter, too.
In that moment, my mother’s daily ritual came into focus. Life is about showing up, and for her, putting on lipstick was a way of embracing that principle—whether folding laundry, studying, or comforting someone in need.
For the past twelve years, I’ve made lipstick a daily part of my routine. Now, when my mother suggests I apply some before we head out—be it for lunch or picking up the kids from school—I reach into my purse, pull out the tube, and smile.
If you’re interested in more insights about family journeys, check out this article, which explores parenting and home insemination. For those facing challenges in conceiving, you may want to visit this resource for expert advice. Additionally, the CDC offers valuable statistics on infertility, making it an excellent resource for anyone involved in the topic.
In summary, my mother’s daily application of lipstick taught me not just about beauty but about the importance of showing up for life, embracing each moment with grace.