She had grown tired of her inner monologue telling her she wasn’t beautiful.
Born in a family where appearance was everything, she had spent hours making sure every hair laid flat and every pleat was perfectly pressed. From dinners to galas to parties all around, she dazzled every man and woman she came in contact. They awed over her dresses and envied her shoes. The ones who were bold enough would lean in and whisper, “who did your nose?” She would smile at them, brushing off their questions, while enjoying their praise.
But once the lights dimmed and the people from the night faded away, she’d be reminded of her lack of beauty and everything would change. Her fancy dress suddenly felt cheap. The diamonds that hung from her ears seemed dull. Her long golden curls looked frizzy.
On this particular night, she stripped out of her dress, scrubbed her face until the final traces of makeup washed down the drain, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was bare.
If she wanted to silence the voice in her head, she would have to prove to herself that she was beautiful.
She thought back to a time when she younger -perhaps eight or nine. She was sitting on a purple velvet chair beside the vanity where her grandmother was applying makeup. The room smelled of Chanel N°5 and fresh cut roses. Even then, she knew that would be a scent she would never forget. But it wasn’t the smell that transformed her that day. It was watching her grandmother trace the outline of her lips with a dark red lipstick. Her grandmother caught her eye in the reflection of the mirror. In her thick French accent, she told her, “Bold women wear red lipstick.”
She looked at the glamours woman in front of her dripping in pearls. She wished she could look as beautiful as her.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be bold enough to wear it,” she said.
Her grandmother turned to face her and slowly began painting her lips red. “My darling, you will always be bold and beautiful enough.”
Now, she reached for that iconic shade of red. She took her time outlining her lips, being transported back to her Grandmother’s bedroom. As her inner monologue started drawing attention to her flaws, she looked at herself in the mirror and said aloud, “I am beautiful.”
She went to bed wearing nothing but red lipstick. And she never felt more beautiful.
Favorite Red: Nars Velvet Matte Lipstick Pencil – Cruella
Comment Questions: What makes you feel beautiful? Also, what’s your favorite red lipstick?