You may remember my semi-desperate search for Lara Bingle’s ill-fated Dancing with the Stars lipstick. It was brightly coloured, and love at first sight.
So I dawdled on a few weeks without really looking into it. I contemplated tweeting her, but ultimately decided it was a bit psycho. So eventually I aimlessly wandered into Mecca Cosmetica in Queens Plaza (which, for Brisbane peeps who haven’t been in for a while, is undergoing massive transformation including a Chanel store!) and pulled out my phone and Googled Lara’s lips. Erm… Still kinda weird, but also not really. This was after the sales assistant expressed considerable reservations regarding my desire to emulate Ms Bingle… Perhaps there’s something about Lara Bingle that I don’t know, but no one seems to like her. I really like her! In fact, people hating on her makes me like her even more.
After a few seconds of thought, my little make-up adviser struck on the perfect colours. After some playing on her part and umm-ing and aaaah-ing on mine (combined cost = $92! Ouch!), I decided to just get it. Totally spontaneously and without much thought for my credit card cringing inside my wallet. (Sorry, credit card).
The next day, at the first of two birthday parties that I attended that day, I applied the lipstick. It was perfect. I was happy. A match made in heaven, my lipstick and I happily attended the party. Much to do was made about the lipstick – it’s bright and it’s bold, and it’s definitely not for the shrinking violets among us. The other benefit of the lippie is that a little smear on the rim of your champagne glass means no one will accidentally take your glass (I always get nervous about cold sores being passed to my disease-less lips from a mistaken glass). It also means every person who gets a kiss on the cheek also has an extra bit of time with me as I wipe the hot pink from their faces. We all started calling it nuclear, because it was so freakin’ bright.
I wonder if I can tweet Lara and ask if she gets similar reactions to the lipstick?
And then I looked up and across the room I saw a guy. And he had quite obviously also seen me. Time passes, he sits beside me and a friend on the biggest man-chair you've ever seen. True to form, I instantly become tongue-tied and thankfully become distracted by someone else to talk to. And then I have to leave, because I have another party to attend. Before I leave, I ensure I find out who he is, whether he’s single (yes – for a year in order to recover from heartbreak) and if he’s nice (another yes).
The next day, I wonder if I’ll hear from him.
Indeed I do. And how.
Hi Rachel (we met briefly on the couch). I can’t help but regret not getting to know you a little better (and the huge couch for that matter). So if you are in fact ‘single and lovely’ as described, then maybe you’d be willing to wear that lovely pink lipstick out on a date with me? I am also ‘single and lovely’ depending how you define lovely. See, we have so much in common ;)
Um. Wow. A win for lipstick.
I should let Lara know.