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.”