my sister visited this weekend. it was the first time in awhile that i felt complete. it's funny how i've just assumed that normal is the way i feel when i'm on the bus or walking across the river, or sitting alone watching tv. because it's not.
the nice thing about allison is that she's like a charger for me. she recharges my battery: my excitement, my mind, my heart. she makes me see that the situation i'm in - no matter what it be- is not bad. she is a fantastic reminder as to what i'm able to do and she encourages me to do it always...even if she's not around.
allison and all her beautiful physical attributes can and does wear all things gorgeous. if you have the privilege of knowing allison or if you've checked out her blog and her firm, george pr, then you know this about her. she has an impeccable eye for style. i would be envious except for the fact that i know it is rare so therefore i am proud and also because i'm the little sis, i can access her knowledge for free. :)
the topic this weekend, in between christian louboutin booties, faux leather jackets and bond no. 9, was bright red lipstick - a never-ceasing seasonal fave of fashion mags and a look that a.beale can pull off so well. where i've seen a red lipstick or two come and go in alli's makeup bag, there was a specific one she was looking to find this fall: lipstick queen's red sinner.
allison, sharing my ability to become overly "fill-in-the-blank" had read an article in this month's marie claire about the creator of the shade and how it all came to be. allison was inspired then and there. we'll support any fine woman who readily admits that even when her boyfriends went, the lipstick stayed. i will read this story myself right after i finish this blog, but i wanted to write down a few thoughts of my own.
while i've read other inspiring stories where red lipstick stole center stage, including "why i wore lipstick to my mastectomy" and therefore witnessed, so to speak, the power of the color, i can't say that other than a random oct. 31, i have tried that power myself.
we found lipstick queen's red sinner at tried it out. it was perfect for allison, accenting her blue eyes, pale skin and strawberry-blond hair. i myself was less enthused but had to admit that it made my green eyes pop. alli purchased the tube while i backed out at the last moment, bowing-out gracefully to a challenge i wasn't ready to step up to. and boy was i glad that i did. because despite the perfection in which i had applied it and the way that i rocked it the rest of the afternoon, my soon-to-be hubby was less enthralled with the look describing it as "different," "pink," (for reals) then "smeared" (AFTER he had kissed all over me).
i'm not sure why this upset me so much. was it because i really wanted (as i do most of the time) to look utterly flawless in everything allison does? or was it because i didn't want to hear anything other than "that looks amazing on you" - which was the way i had felt all afternoon?
when allison left today, she left that tube of lipstick for me. she reminded me that i needed things for myself. she reminded me that eric probably didn't know he liked my bond no. 9 scent before he met me. which made me think along these lines a bit more. eric probably didn't know he'd like tall girls in skinny jeans, 4-inch heels and long curls with a passion for miller lite, before he met me.
i thought about the sporadic, different, drastic and borderline crazy things i've done recently (late teens and early 20s don't count). i let someone dye my hair about 10 different colors to travel to russia and model. i've moved to boston to start a (semi) new life with a man, that after three years, i've agreed to spend the rest of my life with.
and what's the difference between doing these things and wearing red lipstick? OR what's the difference between wearing red lipstick and trading my skinny jeans for high-wasted trousers; my navy, wool, cropped pea coat for a faux leather jacket, my 4-inch miu mius for metallic Target flats or my juicy, leather, hobo bag for a pink, satin clutch? what's the difference between wearing red lipstick and wearing black lingerie, or painting my nails, or shaving my legs? as a woman, isn't it just another thing that i should be in tune with?
well, there isn't a difference. it's all the same because it's all different.
i'm different, your different. he's different. this city is different. my wardrobe is different. and every day, every single day, my thoughts, dreams and goals are different than the day before.
and i am ok. i can walk the sidewalks with crazy-colored hair, or where every one's a stranger. because i know who i am. this is the part where my sister would say that i live up to the nickname i earned those couple of weeks in russia and london with my crazy hair. this is when she would call me the phoenix.
and i suppose that i'm going to read just this in marie claire. i'm going to read a story that will inspire me (and others) to get rid of those feelings, people or things that make you think you can't walk around with your proverbial red lipstick on. i am going to read a story that let's me know that doing what's right in your gut, heart and head - even if it's not the norm - is always better than doing what's expected. i am going to read a story that is going to make me rise up and exercise my right, my duty as a female, a femme fatal even, to wear red.