I have a bad habit.
Well, actually, I have many but today I’m just talking about my tendency to pick and chew at my lips. Sometimes til they bleed. Gross, I know. I can’t decide if it’s my picking that makes them chapped or the chapped-ness that makes me pick but somehow it feels like a vicious cycle.
Because I’m constantly messing with my lips, I’ve turned to long wear lipstick but am increasingly convinced they’re drying my lips out even more (although I put up with them simply because I don’t want to reapply 4,760 times before lunch). Laziness usually wins with me, you’ll come to realise.
It’s a tough gig being a woman sometimes. And yes, I could ditch lipstick altogether and go with a nice moisturising balm… But where’s the fun in that? I like waking up in the morning and deciding if I’ll have pink or red or purple lips, sometimes orange. You know it’s going to be a good day if you splash on the orange lipstick! It’s part of the joy of being female.
Some women colour their hair or their nails… I like lipstick. And shoes. And cheese. Definitely cheese. Did you know there’s a new cheese bar in Newtown? But I digress.
Lipstick = awesome. Lips = working on them.