Jen’s Red Lip Report

By Jennifer Hakimian


I’ve always admired a woman who wears red lipstick. There’s something so mesmerizing about a white smile framed with perfectly shaped red lips. The woman in red takes over the room. She is confident, elegant, sophisticated and leaves me wondering, “how does she do it?”

I get bit by the red lipstick bug at least once a year and it’s usually around the holiday season. Images of holiday glamour flood my mind. This is my turn; I can wear red! I begin my hunt for that perfect shade of red, there is no other beauty objective that day. It’s all about the lips. I don’t want it too orange or too purple, just red. I test them out on my hands, and a few make it to my lips. Each one getting smudged off leaving me with red-stained swollen lips and a handful of red tissues in my pocket. I always need a plan B,  so I purchase a handful of perfect tubes of redness, each shade more magnificent than the next. I return home giddy dreaming up an outfit to go along with my new red lips. Eyes must be soft and defined, cheeks barely there. Simple black or white attire and sleek ironed hair. Thoughts of my evening out, as the new me, dance through my mind.

I love red. Red is beauty. I have a board on Pinterest dedicated to Red Beauty. It’s my favorite board. Red evokes power, strength, seduction and desire. Our Pampadour offices have red walls. The red inspires me and, strangely enough, comforts me. In coming up with a color scheme for our website, we chose red as one of the main colors. It’s on all of our call-to-action buttons: PampIt, AddIt, TagIt: all red. It is the one thing I would never change, our Pamp red. We recently acquired a piece of art for our office (“O” by Hans Uder). She is a woman with fire red hair and red lips. Red has definitely become part of Pampadour’s theme.

Here’s the best part. I’ve never actually succeeded in wearing it. Somewhere between my vanity table and the front door I get a passing glimpse of myself in the mirror and realize that the woman in the reflection isn’t me. I’m uncomfortable. Funny how a shade of color that I adore can make me feel so wrong when it’s on my face. I wipe off the rich beautiful hue with a tissue and replace it with my favorite shade of nude. Maybe next time.