I have a confession, I have a weakness for 90’s music. The rhythm sets the momentum for the entire day. I often find myself rocking it out, having whole jam sessions when I should be getting ready for work.
Wide leg jeans, crop tops, denim jumpers, gold hoops, the crackling sound, and burnt smell of hot flat iron meeting over-spritzed hair. Multi-layered and multi-colored scrunchies, adorn my hair. I have Bubblicious Bubble Gum being chewed on one side of my mouth and (for lack of knowing all the words) I'm mumbling the lyrics of some Michael Jackson song out of the other. Simpler times? Yes, but why were we just so extra at everything.
I can see my younger self readying for school. I’m mad heavy-handed with the Avon catalog perfume, Far Away, and layering on that cherry-flavored lip gloss hoping it’d turn red on my lips like it was in the tube. Owning a gloss was like a rite of passage, a coming of age almost on par with training bras, a pair of L.A. Gear, and sitting at the grown folk's table for special occasions.
I kept my liquid gold in a little crossbody purse alongside my plastic press-on nails. *I’ve been about this life* I was at that age where I wasn’t allowed to wear eye shadow and lipstick but was too old to be walking around with dry, cracked lips.
So every morning, I’d stand in front of that mirror like I was some Marylin Munroe. Lips puckered, rolling on that cherry lipgloss, being intentional with my tardiness. My imaginary paparazzi outside would have to wait, they'd have to earn my debut. I’d smack my lips together as they do in the movies, blow a kiss at my reflection and then be out.
My steps were heavy, I knew very well that my lipgloss wouldn’t make it back home. Some overzealous teacher would confiscate it because it made me “womanish”. No worries, I’d save my lunch money to buy another. Grape this time.
Fast forward to the present. My timeline is filled with young women with hydrated, shiny, shimmery, and puckered lips. I see keychains ladened with more gloss than keys and I. Am. Here. For. It. The reemergence of lipgloss is the injection of happiness and fun that we need.
I best get going now, or I'll be late. Oh, one more thing before I go, whenever you see me in these streets donning my mask you better believe that underneath it “my lipgloss is popping, my lipgloss is cool”. Stay glossed up like you stay bossed up. *Insert bubble gum pop here*