At 40, I Am Still a Real Woman! – Rouge Parisien

According to my cousin, red lipstick — and red underwear — are compulsory after forty.

After she made that statement, I stared at her blankly while my mind raced to find a way to prove her wrong.

Surely it could not be that simple.

You cannot just paint your lips red and suddenly become a Woman.

And yet, somewhere beneath my resistance, another thought was already floating quietly:

She might actually be right.

But what if red does not suit me?

What if it makes me look older?

Please.

After forty, we already have to consider the direction of the sunlight, the hour of the day and practically the phase of the moon when deciding how we look.

So how could she honestly believe that this loud, uncompromising colour — the colour of warning signs, clown noses, famous nightlife venues and the red light of the world's oldest profession — would not sit on my pale, tired face like a malicious little poppy beneath my dark circles and oversized nose?

What makes her think that after forty I will suddenly have the courage to do something I never dared to do before?

What changes after forty?

I asked almost in panic.

She explained.

“The time comes.

Like everything else, you have to grow into it.

And once the time arrives, things begin to change.

You cannot stop it because time keeps moving.

The only choice you have is whether you become quiet embers or a streak of flame.

Whether you wait half asleep for your hair to turn grey, or continue galloping rebelliously along the road for a while longer.

The decision is born inside you slowly.

And then one day you will buy THE Red Lipstick.”

She smiled slightly.

“You will look at it.

Turn it in your hand.

Think about everything imaginable.

Then finally touch it to your mouth.

At first you will draw it clumsily across your lower lip.

Then the upper one.

You will go a little beyond the edges.

Try to correct it.

Then wipe the whole thing off.

You will feel embarrassed.

Laugh at yourself.

Maybe even shed a tear.

But then you will put it on again.

This time slowly.

More sensually.

More confidently.

And you will look at yourself in the mirror.

So red.

My God.

SO red.

Who is that?

You will ask yourself.

Then the two of you will begin getting acquainted.

And you will feel more excited than you have in years.

Can you see it now?

Your lips are blood-red rose petals.

One glance at them carries the observer onto the emotional roller coaster of all the decades you have lived.

You are no roadside wildflower that collapses under the smallest breeze.

You are the empress of the finest garden.

Shaped by Sun.

Wind.

Rain.

Seasons.

---

This is you.

Now you have truly become a Woman.

The Woman you could not have been at twenty.

Or thirty.

Only now.

So live it.”

Then she smiled fully, showing perfect white teeth behind lips painted in Rouge Parisien.

“After forty, there are still many, many roads ahead of you.

My faith in Red Lipstick is only one of them.”

Professional portrait photography works best when the real person remains recognisable behind the image.

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