Read My Lipstick
The time has come to paint that pout again. Secretly glowing in gloss beneath a mask, my ruby rouged lips—a guilty pleasure for the last few months—have been waiting for the moment when I can proudly parade this pucker once more. Primping was out of place for a while, while we collectively embraced a pandemic makeunder, but when what we thought was a day in our pajamas here, no shower there, and a few weeks of turning off the camera on this thing called Zoom turned into sixteen months, undone became the consensus. But now that we’re scaling back the austerity of survival mode…