The Importance of Pouty Pink

Not that anyone asked, but the SJG is now going to throw myself, lips first, into a Hot Topic, courtesy of the NY Times: The power of the rouge pot. Does wearing makeup make a big diff in a gal's life?  Is makeup a political issue?  A socio-economic issue?  A self-esteem issue?  Hm...  allow me to think on this just a mo'.  If the SJG life philosophy were to be summed up in a simple, yet elegant phrase, it would come down to this, my people:  "It's important to look lovely."  At least for me.  And by lovely, I mean, it's all about the lips and cheeks, as opposed to the hair, which I've pretty much given up on, if I'm being honest, and when am I not?  Without lipstick, I pale in comparison to myself without lipstick.  I'm pale enough to begin with, now that sunning is such an epic, life-threatening no-no.  Naturally, I spent my formative years worshipping the sun, bronzing myself, getting good and crispy, just like all California gals, and years later, have paid the price with sunspots and weird patches of oh-no-not-another-one.  The cruelty of it all!  These days, I slather on half a tube of the SPF AB (SPF for Aging Bitches) before I even go downstairs, in case I accidentally catch a few rays beaming through the front window.  All this overzealous skin protection helps me achieve a nice diluted pallor, just this side of sickly.  Pre-sunscreen mania, I was olive-toned, vaguely Mediterranean and, while traveling through Europe, oft-mistaken for Italian, Greek or Israeli.  That is, until I started talking and only mangled English came out, which pretty much pegged me as just another Loud American. Now I'm never mistaken for anyone but myself, a former Westsider who could use a little blush, even when I'm wearing it.  So, to get back to my point, assuming I have one:  The SJG aspires to look lovely, mainly because I don't want to scare myself or an innocent bystander. And yet, I applaud any gal who can walk around without makeup and not look like she needs an emergency blood transfusion.  In truth, wearing a minimal dab of makeup has never given me a sense of power, a leg-up, an advantage of any kind.  When I was younger, a little pink lipstick and rosier cheeks did accomplish one thing, however.  It stopped my sweet mother from bringing up "the makeup thing" again, which I believe may have been my main goal all along.  Make Mom happy.  So, Mom, if you're monitoring from up above, I'm wearing a lovely shade of coral.