Lipstick

I’ve spent most of my life believing the right lipstick might finally turn me into the person I thought I was meant to be.My lipstick journey has had many ups and downs. I actually started experimenting with lipstick without using lipstick at all—just a brown eyeliner and some Rimmel concealer. It was certainly a look and very much a thing in the 90s. I felt pretty confident in those early experimental days until my senior school tutor called me out in front of everyone and asked if I’d been sucking on a Mars bar.I have never forgiven him for that moment of public humiliation and, quite frankly, it would’ve been a kit kat chunky over a Mars bars.Still, it gave me the nudge to take my pocket money to Superdrug and confront the biggest question facing most 15-year-olds in the 90s: am I Heather Shimmer or Coffee Shimmer? Still reeling from the Mars bar association, I went with the purple undertones of Heather.Oh, how I loved that lipstick. The way it glistened in its dark brown casing, the smell, the lid crowned by the Rimmel logo. This was my gateway to being considered very cool—or so I hoped. Don’t get me wrong, lipstick is incredibly powerful. For centuries women have used it to signal power, rebellion, and patriotism. Unfortunately, Heather Shimmer did not grant me access to cool.This did not deter my love of lipstick. I grew up watching my mum carefully colour her lips bright red every single day. In fact, she would not answer the door unless she had applied it. Rollers in? Nightie on? Irrelevant. That door remained untouched until her lips were perfectly dressed. And boy, could she carry it off.I do love a red lip. A classic nod to femininity: sexy, empowering, attention-grabbing. It only seemed right that I should go down this route next. Red lips became a signature once I started clubbing—and they matched my first work uniform: a redcoat. A match made. I haven’t always been loyal to red, though.In my mid-twenties, I went on holiday with some girlfriends to Miami. We stayed in a small hotel on the beach, all sharing one bed to save money, before spending a week onboard a cruise ship where we knew one of the entertainment staff. Near Miami Beach was a MAC makeup store—this was before MAC popped up on every high street. This was revolutionary.We were met with rows and rows of the most incredible lip colours: reds, oranges, pinks, nudes, blacks, purples. Truly kids in a candy shop. MAC lipsticks, however, were expensive—a real splurge. But my best friend Amy and I both fell in love with a shade called Girl About Town: a bright, bold fuchsia pink with a blue base, almost neon. Combined with our South Beach tans, we decided we both needed one.The following week we boarded a Caribbean cruise, and each evening was an excuse to dress up and hit the bars. The lipstick was such a vibe it overshadowed any outfit, so we agreed to take turns wearing it each night.Midway through the week we attended the captain’s cocktails, Amy looking the business in Girl About Town. I caught the eye of a tall, dark, very handsome member of the entertainment team—someone we all know, professionally, to avoid at all costs. Naturally, I became completely committed to for want of a better term pulling him. Why was this not my lipstick night?It didn’t seem to matter. By the end of the evening we shared a kiss in the ship’s library (I’ve since learned this is the standard hiding spot for staff not allowed to be seen with guests). How romantic—the library. Insert your own pun here.On the final night, it was my turn to wear the lipstick. This would surely seal the deal. I layered it on: neon, creamy, glowing against bronzed skin, hair slicked back to give it my full attention. We visited every bar, even the staff bar, and he was nowhere to be seen (he was probably exchanging another book)—until, just as we were heading back, there he was.“I’m just finishing my shift,” he said. “I’ll call your cabin when I’m done.”Back in our tiny, windowless cabin—two bunk beds and no dignity—I lay completely still on the top bunk, fully dressed, heels on, determined not to move my head and smudge the sensational colour while waiting for the cabin phone to ring.It never did.Needless to say, the lipstick remained fully intact. We disembarked the next morning and that was that—my short lived love affair with him. Shortly after I learnt the lipstick shade was also discontinued.Nowadays my colour of choice from MAC is Lady Danger, the most beautiful vintage red-orange. When I eat, it covers my chin. When I talk, it’s on my teeth. It adorns the collars of most of my jackets and has painted many, many wine glasses.It also makes me feel like myself. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit toriecampbell.substack.com