Not long ago, I decided, for the millionth time, that I would
make a small but dramatic change to my appearance that would give (this time!)
stunning results.
So I made the
pilgrimage into MAC and told them I wanted a dramatic lip colour for “evenings”. Sounds good right? Like when I sit outside Parisian
Cafes at sunset in clunky sandals crossing my gazelle like legs and chatting to
someone in a band. Or wandering, chilled glass of white in my hand, the other tucked
into my husband’s American Apparelled elbow as we inspect art in a beautiful,
light filled gallery in Brooklyn. Alexa Chung glances over at us curiously. Who
is that couple and where did she get that lipstick?
I nearly believed it
myself.
I was outside on Grafton Street before I admitted to myself
that weekend evenings for the foreseeable future go like this. Fridays are
spent, from 6pm, trying to stay awake until the kids are in bed so I can watch
Sarah Beeny Selling Houses with camomile tea before crawling up the stairs at
about ten. Sometimes I have been known to sleep in my clothes. What can I say?
I’m tired on Fridays. Saturday “evenings” are spent in the viewing gallery of
the local secondary school swimming pool watching my kids do their lessons. Despite
the fact that I can see them shivering by the poolside, the heat from the pool
seems to skip them and rises to us parents as we sit in the fug, sweating and a
bit bored. No one wears lipstick. After this we pile into the car, I hear who
laughed at who’s underpants in the changing room, who skipped the queue for the
shower and get home for eight o clock, to see the end of the Big, Big Movie. Then
the kids are whooshed up the stairs so my husband and I can eat Indian Takeaway
and watch our Parks and Recreation boxset.
In my pj’s.
Before pressing play I give my face a good scrub and slather
it with night cream in preparation for the glamorous week ahead. Obviously I look very attractive.
So that’s evenings.
But, hang on a minute, the MAC girl said that the colour I chose
would also be perfect for a “Festival Lip.”
She actually said this with a straight
face to my forty four year old one.
“This colour would be
perfect for a festival lip.”
