My peeps, take a moment to visit Grant Miller Media and vote for me in the Drysdale Awards. What are the Drysdale Awards, you ask? Well, they’re like the Oscars for bloggers, meaning that the winners will accept their awards while wearing sweatpants and t-shirts with week-old tomato-sauce stains on them rather than gowns and tuxedos. I’m up for awards in two prestigious categories: Blog With the Most Pictures of the Blogger and Blog With the Most Swears. In other words, the Drysdale organization thinks I’m fucking vain! Well, this post is designed to encourage you bitches to vote for me in both categories.
I’m sure y’all have noticed that I wear red lipstick nearly all the damn time. I do make exceptions when the clothing calls for a lighter lip, especially if someone else is doing my makeup for me and can do the whole miraculous eye and skin stuff that makes light lipstick look better. Here are some previously posted examples of non-red lips.
Anyway, I was so pleased with the lip color from the CPJ dinner last month that I decided to try it out with my everyday black t-shirt, jeans and heels combo. First, I discovered it is very difficult to take a close-up photo of one’s own lips. This is the best I could do.
Then I discovered that while the light color made my lips more luscious, I felt washed-out and boring. It was like there was no exclamation point to my appearance, and I’m used to an exclamation point, dammit. When I met my gorgeous, red-lipstick-wearing sister, Terri Berry, that night for dinner, she suggested that it might have worked better if I had taken the damn time to do a little more with my eye makeup, but I was all like, “Fuck that shit.”
Here’s the head-to-toe photo from that night. I kind of love it that this look would be a total mindfuck for How Not to Look Old author Charla Krupp (Am I the only one who thinks she looks just a tad older than she is? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?) On the one hand, she would approve of my lipstick. Trading red lipstick for boring pink with gloss is one of her fetishes. On the other hand, I’m sure she and other Fashion Police-type bitches would shit themselves over the fact that I wore cropped (well, rolled-up) pants and booties — totally breaking up the line of my leg and making me look stumpy. The horror!
So that’s that. No more light lipstick for casual evenings out. I’ll be posting on a new red lipstick soon. While you eagerly await that post, don’t forget to go to Grant Miller Media and vote for me in the Drysdale Awards’ vanity and cussin’ categories (hey, this is my 140th post with a photo of me in it). As always, I am eternally fucking grateful for your support.
UPDATED TO ADD: What the fuck? I am way behind in the swearing category.