My obsession with lipstick began in kindergarten on the day when I received my own first-ever lip product: the universally-recognized and highly-pursued Lip Smackers. “My lips can be buttery soft and smell like Coca-Cola at the same time?! OMG!!”
As I grew older, I came to the realization that high quality fashion did not equal high quality taste (or low quality, considering how most of my Lip Smackers only faintly smelled of candy, and in actuality tasted like wax), grew frustrated with the lack of colors available to paint my lips (“So what’ll it be: pink and glossy, light pink and glossy, or clear and glossy?”), and eventually desired something a little more refined, classy, and colorful. Unfortunately, attending a Catholic elementary and middle school with a strict NO MAKEUP WHATSOEVER (ERE NOT TO STIR MALE TEMPTATIONS) rule forced me to hang onto the Smackers a little longer.
In high school, at a school with no such makeup ban, the Smackers were finally retired. Trips to CVS resulted not in bulk purchases of childish lip moisturizers, but of luscious stains by Revlon and vivid liquid lipsticks by Nyx. Sephora became like a candy store to me, and I purchased sticks, glosses, and stains of all colors. And I procured not just various hues of red and pink, but other fun colors as well: black, to fulfill the middle school goth-phase that had always been stifled; dark purple, for the days when I was channeling my inner-Lorde; and even blues and greens, because, why not?
At the age of nineteen, just four years after my freedom to explore lip color was awarded, my lipstick collection looks like this:
A great tip to achieving a good collection is to first remember that the lifetime of a lipstick is about two years, then, after buying a new product, to conveniently forget when your lipstick was purchased. (“It’s definitely been less than two years since I got this…right? Yeah, I’m sure it’s fine.”)
(My attempt to artistically apply all my lipsticks to my face at once)
Though there have been times when I’ve second-guessed my addiction, I’ve embraced the surprising benefits of becoming a lipstick addict: eternally moisturized lips, constantly knowing which napkin is yours, and always having a valid reason to refuse hooking up with someone at a party! (“Oh, I would totally make out with you, it’s just, I don’t wanna mess up my lipstick.”)*
*I mean, like, that’s what I would say…you know, if it ever got to that point…
Image via.
