More Than Makeup

This is my Beauty Story

The earliest memory I have is watching my mom put on makeup. I would watch her when she was getting ready to go out with my dad, standing in front of the mirror. She wore her high heels and applied bronzer to the apples of her cheeks, her neck, and her forehead. It was a stick cream bronzer from the ’60s. I don’t even remember the brand.

Then she would take a black Ebony writing pencil, fill in her brows, and put false eyelashes on with a pin or a toothpick. She’d use very pale lipstick, and I just looked at her like she was the most glamorous woman in the world. She reminded me of Jackie O. She was stunning.

I could never compete with how glamorous my mom was. She was so incredibly glamorous. She worked really hard at it; that's the way she liked to see herself. I was never that glamorous, so what I took away from it was that I needed to figure out who I was. I would play with the makeup, but whenever there was too much on I would just blend it in so no one knew I was wearing it.

I blended in my bronzer, added a little more on my cheeks, and finished with a touch of blush. I don’t even remember what I did with my lipstick, except that it definitely wasn’t the pale shade my mom wore.

Mom could be glamorous, and I could just be pretty. Works for me.

My mother loved lipstick. She had drawers full of them; different brands, but always the exact same color. I never liked them. They smelled funny, were as frosted as could be, and usually ended up on her teeth. They were a mess. But my mom adored them.

She graduated from the palest lips imaginable in the ’60s to, later on, a sort of almondy shade with shimmer. She loved an almondy lipstick. I was always trying to get her to change it, but it was her thing. She loved it. That was my mom with lipstick.

My Glamorous Mother

The lesson I learned: don’t use your mother’s lipstick.

My Aunt Alice has naturally dark lips, and back then people would tell you there was something wrong with that. She tried to cover the color with lipstick, but it never worked. Eventually, she figured out that using a slightly paler shade gave her the perfect tone; a kind of dusty, mauve-y color. Whenever I create a range of lipsticks, I always include that shade. It’s become one of my favorites too.

Me and Nana

But, what I really learned from Aunt Alice is that beauty comes from the inside out. She believes everyone is beautiful unless they aren’t kind. To her, beauty and kindness are inseparable. She taught me that being yourself and being kind is what truly matters.

Aunt Alice has always been unapologetically herself, from her short never-colored hair to her flat shoes (she never wears heels) to the lipstick she never changed to the big comfortable cardigan sweaters she loved.

And with her simple style, she always added great jewelry. I guess I get that from her too.

Me and Aunt Alice

When Aunt Alice went out in the evening she might slip on a sparkly sweater, add a touch more lipstick (the same shade she wore during the day) and definitely brush some blush onto her cheeks. Sometimes she would finish with a little color on her eyes, usually a creamy blue or lavender which she always adored.

And guess what? She said I was born with lavender eyelids. I don’t know, I don’t remember, and there’s definitely not a picture. But whenever I see lavender eyeshadow, I think of Aunt Alice.

My idea of beauty was shaped by my mother and my Aunt Alice. Two sisters who couldn’t have been more different. My mom was all about glamour, while Aunt Alice was grounded and real. That combination of influences-glamour and realness—defined how I came to see beauty.

That’s my beauty story. Would love to hear yours as well.