Now, Sugar, she said, you don’t have to make it so difficult or be so intimidated by the color. You own that color, it does not own you, she said, as if one could or would be intimidated by a shiny three-inch tube of creamy scarlet pigment. You hold your mouth like this—pouting—or like this—pursing—or like this—smiling a gargoyle’s smile, lips stretched taut over a line of Chiclet teeth. Personally, she said, I think that a relaxed mouth is a receptive mouth, and wearing red lip lacquer demands a receptive frame of mind. Red is not for the shy ones—and nether is ruby, or crimson, or cherry, she said, so it is important to take ownership of that tube like you mean it. You know that phrase, “Go hard, or go home?” That’s how it is with saturated color—you have to commit.
So, she said, you uncap the gold tube, and check your color—very important, make sure your mood and your mouth are in accord with one another. Harmony is the goal here. Once you are satisfied that the lipstick is the right shade exactly and therefore your friend, you twist the bottom potion to expose the creamy stick—don’t twist too much now, or that lipstick will snap right off and drop on the cleanest thing in the surrounding environment, which will forever tell the tale of you mishandling your lipstick, which is quite a trial. No, just a half inch—no more, I mean it—will do.
Now, she said, as we approach application, a steady hand is imperative, because women with a smear—no, a slash—of crimson across their faces look cheap and disorganized. No, precision is key, so if you have had too much coffee and have the shakes or if you are freezing and have the shivers, adjust yourself accordingly. Let me show you, she said, bending her arm at the elbow and bracing it on the tabletop. See? Steady, solid as Gibraltar’s Rock, not going anywhere but where you exactly want it to go. Begin with your lower lip—decide here, commit, and remember if you are going left to right or right to left, and make sure you do it the exact same way every time, because that is the only way to get really good at it. Personally, I like to work from the outer corner of my lower lip—more pouting—to the central meridian of my mouth, thus covering half a lip at a time. This, she said, makes for more control and precision than a single line of application, especially because lipsticks tend to be somewhat straight of form, and if you have that kind of lips, straight, you know, you look kind of mean. Last thing you want your lipstick to be is uninviting—I mean what is the point? Why bother, if your lips don’t say, “Come hither. Now.”
Once you have lightly pressed your crimson or ruby or scarlet to your lower lip— and we will talk about the critical elements of perfect color selection, blue-red or orange undertones, another time—back up a little from the mirror and make sure you are coloring within the lines. If you’re good, smack those lips together to deposit some of the bottom lip’s crimson on the top lip, giving you a more balanced appearance while warming up to the real thing, additional color deposits on both the bottom and the top lip. Be careful when you smack those lips of yours that you don’t get them spit wet, because your lipstick will not glide—trust me on this—smoothly over a watery surface. In fact, spit repels lipstick, and that is, after all, counterproductive.
Now you have laid the foundation, she said, and you are ready to build upon it. Go big and hard, and push that scarlet spike against those lips—top and bottom, one more time, being very careful, again, to color within the lines. Eventually you’ll get good at this, when you’ve grown up some, perhaps when you are my age.