Triumph by lipstick

I admit it.  I have a penchant for lipstick.  I never leave home without it.  There's power in that little pucker of color applied to the lips. It doesn't matter what else I might be wearing, if my lipstick has been applied I'm ready for the world.  For me, you're never fully dressed without...your lipstick!  Life is not my own right now as I care for my Dad and I am often dressing as I dash out the door.  (In case you don't know, he likes to be on the run.)   I've learned no matter what you are wearing, there's instant transformation in a pair of sunglasses and a little lipstick.  I remember about 8 years ago I climbed Greys and Torreys (two fourteeners in Colorado) with my brother and sister and their families.  Upon reaching the summit my nephew was aghast when I paused to apply my lipstick. He had never seen such a thing and the logic of it was completely lost on him.  

Today I was desperately out of foundation, meaning I was scraping the bottom of the bottle with a make-up brush and had been doing so for a week.  With my Dad in tow we headed to the mall.   (Nordstrom no less.)  I tend to avoid Nordstrom as I feel I have stepped into some artificial world frozen in the "perfect" mode.  I always feel a little shabby in comparison even if I'm in my "Sunday Best."  Today was not even close to Sunday best.  It was more like "What Not To Wear." I had been running early this morning and hadn't showered.  I had thrown on some jeans, my favorite long t-shirt and an old but comfortable black heavy knit sweater.  My hair was hurriedly bunched up on my head.   Before stepping out of the car I tilted the rear view mirror down and applied my defensive weapon - lipstick.  "You look pretty dang good" I told myself. Pushing my Dad in his wheelchair, we charged the large and spacious building of image and fortune.  I found myself not fazed in the least by all the glitz and glam.  This was partially due to being a frazzled caregiver, but mostly because I'm finding at 56 you can do what you please with a free and easy conscience (almost). The spiked heeled, Twiggy-thin, flawlessly made-up woman in outrageous textured hose with a funky little suit who helped me was very friendly and nice.  I hadn't the least twinge of inferiority.  I was happy to be the casual, free wheeling customer unencumbered by that extra four inches of height. My lipstick held it's own just fine!   And I got a gift package with my purchase.  Couldn't have gone better.