SHAVINGS FROM MY HEAD

“If they don’t have YOUR shade, who even WANTS it to last?”

As Queen Latifah pointed her finger up at me from the glossy pages of the magazine, I considered the statement. Although she was pushing Cover Girl’s new OUTLAST lipcolor, still, it made me ponder the question.
Personally, whenever I think of shade---especially when associated with African American women---I usually don’t consider lipstick.
But that’s just me.
Instead, I think about the bad-boy from the gym with the arm of tatts.

The advertisement continued to boast:
“Now Outlast offers the MOST SHADES IN LONGWEAR. Plus the crystal clear way to find the right ones for you!”
Apparently, there are 41 shades.
And with the new “shopping system”……”you can’t go wrong…all day long!”
Who knew?
“Want to see the difference up close?” the advertisement taunted.
Ok I thought.
Again, brazen reminders of Tattman.

Couldn’t choosing the right boy, with the appropriate amount of shade, be as simple as that? Just pull off the cap, twist a little and the perfect hue of husband grows to meet your desirable lips. Otherwise…who even wants it to last?

Labels: Bad Boys, Maybe he's born with it?, Perfect Make Up