My sister is on a quest for a life of consequence. She is responsible, articulate and the very spirit of morality. My other sister is on a quest for a life of happiness in relationships, or lack thereof. She reads Elisabeth Elliot, Josh Harris and delights in whatever stage of relationship buildup or breakdown she is in. My brother is on a quest for a life of superior education. He has been invited to Yale, MIT and Princeton. He has enough college invitations to wall-paper his room. I, however, in the spirit of rebellion and impudence that I frequently demonstrate, am on the quest for the ultimate red lipstick.

Not just any red lipstick. Because, right now, I own about nine or ten Any Red Lipsticks. I am looking for THE Red Lipstick. The Red Lipstick that goes with everything. The Red Lipstick they used to wear in movies. Whether wearing high-waisted shorts or evening gowns, all the women of glamour would wear red lipstick. Red. Not mauve, not plum, not reddish-orange, not earth brown, not pink, not VIBRANT fuchsia, but RED.

This Christmas, I came very close to the end of my quest. I found a lipstick that I tried on in the store, which I loved. I puckered and pouted in the mirror. I smiled and scowled. I loved it. PERFECT. I paid an extraordinary sum for my little tube of happiness and scurried home. I carefully planned my outfit around the debut of my red lipstick. I. Was. Ecstatic.

I will spare you with the details of my hair, outfit and makeup,though I remember it QUITE clearly. But, what I will inform you of, is when I went to put on that lipstick, it was not red. It was not even mauve, plum, reddish-orange, earth brown, pink or VIBRANT fuchsia. It was Day-Glo Orange. Actually, the color day-glo orange is a little generous. It was more like day-glo orange with a little dirt brown mixed in and a bit of animal blood thrown in for good measure.

It was heinous. It made my skin look sallow, my hair look flat and my waist fatter. It disappointed me. Crushed me. IT MADE ME CRY. I had a few options at this point. I could:

a. give up on my quest entirely. And give this lipstick to a sworn enemy.
b. take the lipstick back to the department store and hope they had given me the wrong color.
c. keep the lipstick as a reminder that life will always disappoint you and you will never get what you want.
d. burn the department store down.
e. conclude that because I am fat, nothing looks good on me.

I did none of the above. I did take the lipstick back. And I listened toquite a few people lecture me on the consequences of relying on lipstick for happiness. And while I appreciated their well-meant words, I had already learned my lesson.



Never buy lipstick with tinted sunglasses on.