The Drumbeat Red Goes On

Perhaps you are wondering why I have so many lipsticks arranged in ascending order beginning with 103 – Revlon’s "Caramel Glacé" and ending with 892, L’Oréal’s “Raisin Rapture.” I have wondered that myself, and believe I have found the reason.

It is this: I am a sucker for almost any advertisement that claims, however subtly, to make me look as gorgeous as the model in the photo.

Which explains Drumbeat Red.

The cutout of the model on L’Oréal’s lipstick display was nearly full-size. She had pale skin and blue eyes like me. And the red lipstick she wore was just right. Not overly garish, yet not invisibly subtle. She was provocative but in an innocent way, like, “Aw, shucks, I didn’t think I’d look THIS great with just a little ol' tube of red lipstick!”

Add to that the rainy day effect. When it’s raining and you can’t carry an umbrella, purse, briefcase AND cup of coffee all at the same time, you sacrifice the umbrella. You get a good soaking, at least on the head, and maybe even the legs, if a thoughtless driver splashes you.

It must have been raining that day. I’m almost certain of it. And I was traveling, far from home. The model's hand was extended, the lipstick like a torch. The store display flashed a subliminal message.

‘Come, you tired, you poor,
You drenched masses yearning to be free
of the wretched refuse of your soaked clothing.
Come to me, I lift my red lipstick up
Inside the Target door….’

Or something like that.

I thought, if all that is standing between me looking fantastic, the way this model does, and the drowned rat I am now, is a tube of Drumbeat Red….count me in!

And before you could say “Cat in the Hat” I was the proud owner of a new tube of Drumbeat Red, L’Oréal Number 310.

I returned to my hotel room and immediately applied the treasure. There were no dinners, no appointments that evening, just quiet time to work and read. But I was excited. Any minute I knew the Drumbeat Red would work its magic, transforming me from wethead to vamp.

After working on my computer for an hour or so I saw myself in the mirror. The Drumbeat Red had spread. Small dots of it appeared around my mouth and on my cheeks, even on the backs of my hands and my sweater. My only explanation for this was that perhaps I had pursed my lips and chewed on my pen while concentrating, spreading Drumbeat Red like a virus.

I realized that if I weren’t careful, I’d have red muck all over the hotel room like the Pepto-pink in “The Cat in the Hat Comes Back.” I thought, “I need Voom, and I need it NOW!”

Lucky for me, a few tissues wiped up the spread of red, erasing forever the fantasy that a tube of lipstick was all I needed to be glamorous. I felt more like the character Bette Davis played in “Whatever Happened to Baby Jane”, an aging actress who, among other cardinal sins, was unable to keep lipstick within her lip lines.

Yet I keep the tube of Drumbeat Red. If not a tube of hope, it’s certainly a tube of amusement on a rainy day.