Va Va Voom Lips, and Why I'm Hopelessly Unsexy

So anyone who knows me personally knows at least two things about me. 1) I'm gullible enough to be taken into just about any marketing ploy and 2) I'm a slut at heart. Not that I'm promiscuous or anything--I'm married to my high school sweetheart, and prefer to keep it that way, but I definitely have a predilection towards the sluttier looks and actions in life. I think it is because my hero is one Blanche Devereaux. Whatever. But anyway, with me, it's always the more cleavage the better, and I love to pine away looking at black pencil skirts and back seam fishnet hose.

Part of this look is, of course, red lips. I, however, have never owned a tube of red lipstick, and have always felt hopelessly scared by the stuff. Even though I have read countless fashion magazine articles about how to pull it off, I've always imagined myself buying it, putting it on, and then wham bam thank you ma'am--I'm transformed into Baby Jane. Although playing the part of Baby Jane won me some high school accolades in a drama competition (I went all out, bitches--you should have seen my hair), this is not a look I would like to revisit.

So imagine my excitement at finding Cover Girl's Tru Shine lipcolor collection, a collection that promises to match my skin tone and flatter my lips with any shade. It promises! It even says something about flattering 97% of skin tones. Now, if they had said 100%, I would have called bullshit, and perhaps I wouldn't have bought the product. But 97% sounds scientific, like this was all done in a lab, and out of their 100 models, three looked like ass, so they called it a day and slapped this 97% guarantee on it. It seems honest. Of course, I snap up Valentine Shine, which is a red lipstick. Hey, it promised! Va va va voom lips for the Morgan McSluttygirl!

So I buy the product, and on a day when I'm wearing all black, and thus need a pop, I pull it out. First off, putting lipstick on is a lot harder than I thought it was. To be quite honest, I never buy it--I always buy gloss, but I didn't think there was any huge change. Here's the deal though--you can't put lipstick on while hurdling toward the Richmond bridge at 70 mph. It requires precise detail--it requires for you to be stopped, and in front of a mirror, and possibly, with some sort of degree in lipstick application technology. So, while in line at the toll plaza, I pull out the tube and put it on, as carefully as possible. I mean, I'm not an expert, and I could tell I messed up a little at the top because my lips no longer had that little dip at the top center (what is that called?), but overall, it looked pretty good. And my lips were red!!! Really, really, red. I thought it looked fantastic. I handed my $4 over to the toll dude, smiled at him perhaps a little more than usual, and drove into Marin Co. knowing that I was sluttastically gorgeous.

And everything was going fine--I had a little spring in my step all that morning. I had an early morning student, and after meeting with her, went to the bathroom, and that's when I realized that my lips were no longer red. They were more like magenta. I kind of looked like one of those old women at the nursing home who is left to her own devices perhaps a bit more than she should be, and keeps layering on that one tube of Estee Lauder lipstick she bought in in 1984. Yes, that was me. The magenta was not cool. And not slutty.

So here are my theories: 1) Cover Girl knows that I am a pretender to the Devereaux throne, and feels that I can't handle red, so they downgraded me to magenta for my own good, 2) I'm one of the 3% of people who look like ass in this stuff or 3) I just really don't understand this lipstick thing. Perhaps if I had spent more time in applying it? I'm not sure. I mean, the product is actually nice--it's creamy, and has a nice shine to it, and the little silver tube is cute enough. But the color is just not for me. I think I'll try it a couple more times, and if it still doesn't work, well, there goes my hopes and dreams for sluttiness.

Oh well. I guess there is a place out there for bookish looking SAT tutors who aspire to red lips and back seam hose. I'm still holding on to the dream though!