An Elizabeth Arden ad from World War II.

“If you're sad, add more lipstick and attack." —Coco Chanel

I think I’ve mentioned before that my mother was a tiny woman. I am five feet, six inches tall, and when I stood in bare feet and hugged her, I could lay my cheek over and rest it on the top of her head. Almost eight years later I can still feel the softness of her silver curls against my face. Though she never felt fragile in the way that elderly women can, she was slight of stature. In her late seventies, she had topped 140 pounds and gave up her beloved bread because she felt that she was too fluffy.

Despite her size, she was fierce. And she was fearless. The only worries I ever knew her to have were of the well-being of her children. She had undying faith that God would take care of what she couldn’t wrangle into submission. Her temper was quick but her love was quicker.

When I was a little girl, I loved to watch her apply her makeup, but I had to sneak because she hated for anyone to see her do it—except for her lipstick. That she would apply with even strangers watching, and for me, it was like watching a movie star prepare for a scene. She wore bright colors, deep reds and rich fuschias, colors I rarely have felt confident enough to don, and somehow they always went on perfectly, the line of her lip traced with exactitude and the bow even and pronounced. One layer, then another, separated by careful blotting. I’m not sure she ever wiped my little girl nose with a tissue that didn’t have a kiss preloaded onto it.

When she died, the funeral director presented her with a beautiful nude shade of lip color. My sister and I didn’t even have to exchange words before we walked away to find her makeup bag and the dark pink we knew she needed to complete her angel’s armor. She had always worn her signature shades when she took on the world. We saw no reason why heaven should be spared.

"Heels and red lipstick will put the fear of God into people."—Dita Von Teese

I have rarely been brave enough to wear red lipstick, or bright pink, though my coloring is similar to my mother’s. It has always made me feel as if I stood out too much, wanted more attention than I did. To me, it portrayed a sass I more often than not did not feel and commanded a level of respect I did not feel confident I had earned. It was bold in a way that made me uncomfortable. To me, it said “What I’m about to say needs to be heard, and you’re going to listen,” and while I am not afraid to say what needs to be said, more often than not, I do it with a gentleness more worthy of a pretty neutral tone that tries not to offend.

I have decided, though, that this year that changes. 2021 is the year of red lipstick. 2021 is the year of bold.

It turns out that red lipstick has quite a history. Red graced the lips of the ancient Mesopotamians, both men and women, and Cleopatra and Queen Elizabeth I. It was mandatory for prostitutes in ancient Greece and was considered witchcraft in England and the U.S. for a time in the late 1700’s into the 19th century.

In 1912, though, as women took to the streets to demand their right to vote, red lipstick became an altogether different thing. It became a symbol of protest and empowerment, a nose thumbed in the direction of the patriarchy. The cosmetics icon Elizabeth Arden was a suffragette, and she handed out her red lipstick to women marching in the streets to make their point. Women were bucking notions of what they “should” be and insisting that they had a voice that must be heard, and red lipstick was a symbol of that movement.

With Hollywood’s moving pictures and the flappers of the 1920’s, red lips became glamorous and were no longer quite the same statement they had been in earlier decades, but the 30’s and 40’s would change that yet again. During World War II red lipstick became a way for women to show they, too, were a part of the fight. Hitler was known to hate red lips, so they became a symbol of the fight against tyranny. The US military even commissioned Elizabeth Arden to develop shades for the women serving, and Victory Red was born for the Army. Montezuma Red matched the red piping of women’s Marine uniforms. And wearing red lipstick became the way women at home could boost morale of soldiers and civilians alike.

The rabbit hole of the history of red lipstick has been a recent trap for me. I tripped into it reading Code Name Hélène by Ariel Lawhon. This story is a fictional account of the life of Nancy Wake, a heroine of World War II who fought in the French resistance. For her, red lipstick was an armor that prepared her for battle in its many forms. Though Lawhon’s story is partially fictional, more than just the broad strokes are historically accurate, and the bit about red lipstick apparently is not poetic license.

From Besame’s relaunch of Victory Red in 2016.

In more recent decades, the boldness of red lips became symbols in demonstrations against injustice in Chile and Nicaragua.

This history has come to me at a time when I needed it. My heart aches as I watch the world seem to wobble off its axis. My absence here in 2020 was due in large part to a paralysis of incredulity and worry. Heading into 2021 I had a hope for better, but it started with a COVID induced fever, and this week does not seem to be leading into anything much better.

It is a time to be bold. It is a time to be heard. It is a time to be a voice of reason and and kindness and compassion. It is a time to stand against some things and for some others.

I think it’s time to bring back the power of red lipstick. I think Mama would approve.

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Unless otherwise noted, all material--written, photographic, and artistic--is the original work of Estora Adams. All rights reserved.

References:
https://www.cnn.com/style/article/red-lipstick-history-beauty/index.html
https://besamecosmetics.com/blogs/blog/110328966-introducing-1941-victory-red-classic-color-lipstick
https://www.allure.com/story/red-lipstick-white-feminism-history
https://www.bustle.com/articles/190243-the-history-of-red-lipstick-from-ancient-egypt-to-taylor-swift-everything-in-between

My, but there are more silver strands in there than I remember.