One Perfect Shade of Grown Woman – Hermès Lipstick and the Art of Looking Alive
Saturday started like any other “let’s just browse” day, which is always code for “we’re absolutely spending money.”
The Boutique That Had No Business Being Here
Mr. Wine & Drama and I were downtown, half-hungry, half-curious, when I spotted something so absurd I nearly laughed: an Hermes boutique. Here. In our town. The same place where people still think a bridal shower must be done on a bicycle pedaled streetcar while knocking back IPA’s.
Naturally, I dragged him closer, mostly to confirm it wasn’t a mirage or a pop-up sponsored by delusion.
He asked, “You want to go inside?”
But before we could step inside, a polite man in a suit asked, “Do you have an appointment?”
I almost said, “For what?”
But instead, I smiled like the kind of woman who does have appointments for lipstick.
He disappeared briefly, then waved us in as if we’d passed a background check. Mr. Wine & Drama immediately found an armchair, requested a bottle of water, and settled in like he was auditioning for the role of “unbothered husband in luxury retail.”
By the way, before you ask… no handbag (Birkin, Kelly, or whatever) is worth what Hermes charges. It’s pretty ludicrous.
You could spend a month in London in style. You could rent a small Italian village for a year. Or get a super hot French tutor to teach you French in Paris. Or you could put a down payment on a rental property. You feel me?
The Color That Stopped Time
Meanwhile, I made a beeline for the makeup section.
If you know me, you know makeup is one of my top five sources of joy. I have a kohl eyeliner addiction so deep it’s practically hereditary. But this display – this was art. Polished golden compacts gleaming under soft light, rows of lipstick standing at attention like satin bullets of self-respect.
And then I saw it.
The color.
The one.
Beige Sienne, but imagine if sophistication had a pulse.
A lovely associate helped me try it on, and the moment the color hit my lips, I had that quiet, cinematic moment where time slows down. It felt like me, but… edited. Elevated. Like a woman who reads poetry on airplanes and doesn’t apologize for ordering the Bordeaux.
Why I Got Emotional Over a Lipstick
It was nearing the anniversary of my mother’s passing, which is probably why I got emotional over a lipstick. She always said two things:
“The worse you feel, the better you must look.”
“Never leave the house without lipstick and your hair done.”
Her logic was simple – grief, exhaustion, heartbreak, none of it gives you permission to look defeated.
So, standing there in Hermes, surrounded by silence, mirrors, and too much air-conditioning, I thought of her. And I thought, fine. Let’s look alive.
Is Hermes Lipstick Worth $88?
Now, Hermès doesn’t believe in vulgarities like price tags.
Everything is discreet. Whispered. Implied.
The price exists, of course. It simply prefers not to make eye contact.
I certainly wasn’t going to ask. That’s not how the game is played.
So when I finally checked out, I was gently introduced to the number:
$88.
Honestly? I’ve spent more on worse decisions.
And I say that as a woman who owns a $6 lip gloss that routinely outperforms products costing ten times as much.
Still, the lipstick felt downright reasonable compared to what was happening around me.
The gentleman beside me was purchasing a pair of loafers for $1,441 and attempting to negotiate a bag-sitting arrangement with a sales associate while he went to dinner.
She politely explained that this was not a service Hermès provided.
He persisted.
She resisted.
He persisted some more.
Eventually, he won.
Money often arrives with impeccable manners.
It also occasionally arrives convinced the world is valet parking.
Suddenly, my $88 lipstick felt positively restrained.
The Exit (With the Orange Bag)
So, $88 later, I walked out with a tiny orange bag, a ribboned box, and the kind of satisfaction that can’t be bought – but apparently can be gift-wrapped.
Mr. Wine & Drama finished his water, put his sunglasses back on, and nodded approvingly.
And just like that, I celebrated another trip around the sun – with good lipstick, good company, and my mother’s voice whispering, “See? You look fine. Now, for God’s grace stand up straight.”
Want more of this energy in your life?
Sip, Slice, Repeat is the Wine & Drama guide to pairing food and wine without being a snob – with the same irreverence, the same honesty, and the same refusal to apologize for enjoying the good things.
Because life is the occasion.
