I had an itching desire for everything to be pink. For the lipstick, for the shoes. I dreamt up a giant bow in my hair and an easter dress. I don’t know what it was. I’ve never been one for pink. I like stereotypically feminine things, but I am also coy about it. I like to pretend that I am subtle in my feminine pursuits...until this blog.
I will never paint my daughter’s walls pink. I will make sure that her wardrobe has an equal representation of every color (except, maybe, for black, I reserve that for myself). If something I am shown is pink, I will ask for the other color it comes in.
No, I truly hate pink. Not the color, the meaning.
And then today it was windy in London and I was cold and I’ve been procrastinating work so long I’ve been feeling handicapped by my vacillations.
I needed to get unstuck.
So I set out for a pink lipstick. Along the way, however, I stopped at a T.K-Maxx (sister of T.J Maxx for you Americans) because it was just in front of my tube station and the wind pushed me in its direction.
I came back out with neon jellies. And I was happy, with a restored energy that only reaffirmed my vision, my mission: bright. fuschia. pink. lips.
After getting off the tube, I went into Boots and tried on every budget pink I could find. I spent maybe an hour. Applying, rubbing it off, reapplying. I had settled on a L’oreal Color Riche lipstick, but then a staff member (who worked for the Clarisonic counter) led me to the Revlon aisle and handed me a Revlon Balm Stain in Lovesick. She said that’s what she was wearing now and that she loves it so much she had to tell me to get it too. So I put down my L’Oreal lipstick and because I am easily dissuaded and influenced and have no opinion of my own, I obliged her.
When I walked out, it was stars and rainbows. The birds were humming and the wind was just breeze. I had pink jellies, I had pink lips, and I felt like a million bucks. I even took a selfie while waiting for my bus, cars whizzing by and people standing next to me. I never take selfies in public. I’m even ashamed when I take them in private. But you know what? I had pink lips, do you know how many fucks I gave? None.
When I arrived home, I realized I already had the exact same thing, repackaged in a different brand.
I should have gone with my original decision...
So now, my friends, you get an added bonus of this being a post about two dupes. Swatched on my skin (below), the two look very similar. For some reason, though, the Clinique Chubby Stick (in Pudgy Poeny) just sat in the bottom of a drawer. I wore it a few times, but more as a sheer stain, not as a full-on color (though the latter is possible). The Revlon one is also almost 10 pounds cheaper... I also think the Revlon is slightly more blue-toned, and slightly more bright.
And that’s the difference between the two: after keeping the swatches on my arm and going to the store, the Clinique really sheared out, whereas the Revlon one still had a bright pink stain. As I write this, in bed, I still have a slight rub of pink on my inner arm. It’s all Revlon.
It's gotten a lot of compliments from my roommates, too, one of which immediately applied it to her lips after she saw it. She exclaimed how lovely it looked, and by the end of our barbeque, how long lasting it was. I agreed.
I like this Revlon one, but it’s still not perfect. It's not quite pink enough, not quite neon enough, and I think I want more of a lipstick formula. I want it to have more texture. I want to rub it between my lips and leave a mark on my glass. I want it stained on my teeth. I want it all pink, you see.