MY SON AND HIS WIFE DECLARED I WAS TOO ADVANCED IN YEARS FOR CRIMSON LIPSTICK. THEIR WORDS INFURIATED ME, AND I RESOLVED TO IMPART A VALUABLE LESSON.
I AM SEVENTY-FIVE YEARS OF AGE AND POSSESS A PROFOUND AFFECTION FOR RED LIPSTICK. I HAVE ADORNED MY LIPS WITH THIS HUE FOR MANY YEARS, AND NOW I FIND MYSELF BEING REPROACHED FOR IT. REALLY NOW… IT IS QUITE UNJUST.
Yesterday, as I was preparing for a familial supper, my son observed me applying my preferred scarlet pigment. He scoffed and uttered, “Mother, you resemble a pathetic elderly jester desperately attempting to grasp at your lost youth. It is mortifying; you truly needn’t engage in such behavior.”
He delivered these words with a facetious grin, as though it were mere jest. HOWEVER, HIS INTENT WAS GENUINE. Subsequently, his spouse, displaying the most unpleasant smile imaginable, regarded me and proclaimed:
“Indeed, I concur with Steph; red lipstick is simply unsuitable for individuals of advanced age. I believe you ought to adhere to conventional practices.”
Instantly, I retorted to her: “DARLING, WHY DON’T YOU ATTEND TO YOUR OWN AFFAIRS?”
You ought to have witnessed her countenance; she was visibly taken aback. She did not anticipate such a response and merely offered a forced smile and averted her gaze. “Apologies, Edith, we simply wish to prevent you from resembling a jester.” CAN YOU FATHOM THE NERVE?
My son appeared bewildered but then appended: “Very well, Mother, relish the spectacle,” while his wife emitted another peal of laughter, remarking, “Come along, Steph, let us not miss the spectacle.” And they both erupted in laughter.
How do you surmise this made me feel? Initially, for approximately ten minutes, I was wounded and retreated to a solitary corner, enveloped in sorrow. However, the sorrow subsequently transformed into UNADULTERATED FURY…
YOU WILL SCARCELY BELIEVE THE ACTIONS I SUBSEQUENTLY TOOK. Listen closely, just one week hence… ⬇️
(The continuation, and the full story are below in the first comment)One week later, the family was gathered once more, this time for my grandson’s graduation ceremony. It was a significant event, and the dress code was smart casual, although I always lean towards elegance. I had carefully selected a sophisticated navy dress with a delicate lace collar, paired with pearl earrings and my favourite comfortable heels. And, of course, I applied my signature crimson lipstick.
As I entered the room, I noticed Steph and his wife already seated, beaming at my grandson who was chatting animatedly with his friends. They saw me approach and their smiles faltered slightly. I walked towards them, head held high, feeling a surge of anticipation.
“Good afternoon,” I said, my voice clear and firm, making sure to meet their eyes directly.
Steph managed a weak, “Hello, Mother.” His wife offered a tight, insincere smile.
“Edith, how lovely to see you,” she said, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “That’s… quite a vibrant shade of lipstick you’ve chosen today.”
I simply smiled back, a genuine, confident smile that reached my eyes. “Indeed it is, darling. It’s my favourite.”
They exchanged a quick, uncomfortable glance. I could see the unspoken words hanging in the air, the judgment they were barely concealing. But I didn’t give them a chance to say anything further.
“Actually,” I announced, my voice carrying slightly louder than necessary, “I have a little surprise for you both today.”
Their eyebrows raised in unison, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion on their faces.
Just then, a young man approached our table. He was impeccably dressed in a suit, holding a professional camera and a small reflector. “Mrs. Edith?” he asked, politely.
“Yes, that’s me,” I replied, beaming.
“I’m here for your photoshoot appointment. Are you ready to begin?”
Steph and his wife were utterly speechless. Their mouths were slightly agape, and their eyes darted between me and the photographer, clearly trying to understand what was happening.
“Photoshoot?” Steph finally stammered, his voice laced with confusion. “Mother, what photoshoot?”
I turned to him, my smile widening. “Why, darling, I decided to treat myself. After our little… conversation last week, I realised something. Life is far too short to worry about what other people think about my lipstick. Or anything else, for that matter. So, I booked a professional photoshoot. I want some beautiful portraits of myself, looking exactly as I wish to be seen.”
I gestured to my lipstick. “And that, naturally, includes my crimson lips.”
The photographer, sensing the tension, politely asked, “Shall we find a good spot with natural light, Mrs. Edith?”
“Absolutely,” I said, standing up gracefully. “Right this way.” And with a flourish, I walked away with the photographer, leaving Steph and his wife gaping at me, utterly dumbfounded.
Throughout the graduation ceremony, I posed for photographs with confidence and joy. I laughed, I smiled, and I made sure my red lipstick was perfectly applied in every shot. I even made a point of posing near Steph and his wife a few times, just to ensure they witnessed the spectacle.
Later, as we were leaving, Steph hesitantly approached me. “Mother,” he began, his tone noticeably different, “those… photos looked… well, they looked like they were going to be very good.”
His wife stood beside him, unusually quiet.
I turned to them, my crimson lips curved into a gentle smile. “Thank you, darling. I’m rather looking forward to seeing them. Perhaps,” I added, my eyes twinkling, “I’ll even send you both a large, framed print. To remind you that a woman of any age can wear whatever lipstick she pleases, and be absolutely fabulous while doing it.”
They mumbled something in response, a mixture of apology and embarrassment. I could see that the lesson had, indeed, been imparted. And as I walked away, I touched my lips, feeling the vibrant red, and smiled to myself. Crimson, I thought, is truly the colour of confidence, at any age. And sometimes, a little bit of crimson is all it takes to remind people of that very important fact.