It’s time for a little self deprecating humor.
Please humor me.
When I was a little girl, I was fascinated with my mother’s lipstick: Fire Engine Red.
My curiosity led me to her vanity mirror where I smudged my little face with red.
I can clearly see mother’s reflection and the shocked/angry expression on her face–
That was the only make-up she wore.
That, and Chanel #5 and stiletto heels!
(they used to be called spike heels)
(as I write this in my cozy acorn wooly slippers)
To this day,
Lipstick means Mom.
The Mom that was a beautiful, spirited woman, who died too young, and left a little girl without the best woman in the world to guide her into adulthood.
So, perhaps it is no wonder that I have an affinity for lipsticks, pencils, and glosses.
Reveal: I count 25 in my kit and kaboodle.
I also must admit, I do like shoes.
But there is not a high heel in my closet.
Oh, maybe one.
Pretty racy, eh?
Well, dear reader, thank you for bearing with my meandering muse on early lessons and lingering influences about beauty.
Love you Mom!
Images from Pinterest