Ilise S. Carter - The Red Menace: How Lipstick Changed the Face of American History

T here are a lot of people who teach you to wear lipstick and generally just push you forward in your endeavors, so heres to them:

First and foremost, there is my mother, Thelma H. Carter, PhD, who would end my teenage crying jags by instructing me, Go wash your face and put on lipstick. Youll feel better. My mensch of a brother, Adam C. Carter, MD, and his family, Margot, Jack, and Exy. Susan and Eli Gilbert and Elaine Zimbler, for being our support system in this difficult year. Beaucoup des mes cousines Franais, aussi.

To my chosen family of friends, who gave you reason to wear it out of the house: Meirav Devash, Christine Colby, Emma Allen (and the ladies of Fuckin Ladies Brunch), Eddie McNamara, Mitch Adair, Marijana Sprajc, Joli Beauchamp, A. V. Phibes, Josh Nahas (the original Red Menace), Robb Teer, Corinne Butler, Rachel Guidera (Rock in Peace), Lucirene Pina, Katy Mastorokis, Sunny Buick, and Cori Werner (along with her glamorous mom, Maribeth, may her memory be a blessing.)

As a performer, there are those who helped me give life to my inner drag queen: Flawless Mother Sabrina (If you dont think youre the most interesting person in the room, no one is going to do it for you), World Famous *Bob*, who understands what it is to be a female-female impersonator, and those who pushed the working act: Jo Weldon, James Taylor, Alex Doll, Tigger!, Fem Appeal, and Elayne Boosler.

As a writer, William Ferguson, Tim Travaligni, Jake Bonar, Julie Tibbott, Doreen Bloch and the staff of the Makeup Museum, John Strausbaugh, Tonya Hurley, and the education department at Elizabeth Arden.

And those who arent here with us now but would love to have seen it: Helen Zias, Sam Alford, my beloved uncle Dan Hyman, PhD, my zaide Jack, and my bubbe Rose Hyman (who never actually owned a lipstick herself), my Aunt Aimee Mast, who always (may her memory be a blessing) had lipstick on her teeth, Mimi Szafran, and my Aunt Bella Shore.

And again, thanks to my dad and biggest fan, Maurice C. Carter, MD.

Shades of the Decade

Martha Washingtons Finest Lip Salve in the World Rouge

L ets start with the legend: according to the corporate mythology, in 1912 the iconic cosmetics impresario Elizabeth Arden handed out red lipstick to suffragettes as they marched down Manhattans Fifth Avenue demanding the vote. They instantly took to the bold pop of color and added a bright lip to their look. Thus, freed from the constraints of its association with sex workers, fancy feminist ladies rebranded lipstick as a glamorous form of rebellion, making lip color essential for every woman, and the rest is beauty history.

Except when it isnt. Its a great story and it does have some threads of truth to it (Arden did march in at least one parade), but its not the whole story of how we came to be one nation under gloss. However, the subject being American history, you have to start somewhere, and generally speaking we like to start with one big event: the shot heard round the world; now he belongs to the ages; a day that will live in infamy. Unfortunately, in addressing the question of lipstick and its place in American history, theres no one bright flash of inspiration. Instead its a long winding chain of events, personalities, and inventions intertwined with race, class, commerce, media, and gender that starts before America was even these United States; indeed, before lipstick was even in stick form.

Lipstick, or lip color, in the 1700s and 1800s would have been known as lip rouge or just rouge in its earliest, all-purpose form and wouldnt come in a stick shape until the late nineteenth century and the metal tube that were familiar with until 1917. It was available in two formulas: rouge in powderjust what it sounds likeor pomatum or salve, which mixed a red dye with some sort of emollient. Thus, the name rouge from the French word for red. The color was limited to the red family and derived from either vegetable dyes or, more commonly, carmine (also known as cochineal), which is ground beetle shells. Using it was less about personal expression or following trends and more about trying to re-create or enhance the natural blush of youth. Use of color occurred but probably sparingly for most American women due to the fact that the country was still something of a frontier, and there was little call for it in rural areas and work-a-day life.

Little but not none. For example, in 1766the same year that the English parliament passed the American Colonies Act, which formalized its full governmental sovereignty over the upstart backwater on the other side of the Atlanticone Ann Pearson, Milliner, took out an advertisement in Benjamin Franklins Pennsylvania Gazette to offer the consumers of Philadelphia imported rouge and lip salve, places cosmetics firmly in the swirl of timeless American interests.

Ms. Pearsons offerings, though perhaps the height of chic for eighteenth-century Philadelphia, were not even particularly novel in the scheme of things. Adornment being a natural instinct, painting the body as an act of vanity or worship is probably one of the oldest forms of grooming. From the Egyptians, who buried their dead of both sexes with makeup palettes, to Queen Elizabeth I, who spackled over her smallpox scars with a white lead paste, coloring our skin has long been part of our lives. Held up as holy, denounced as profane, like every human habit, color cosmetics would arrive along with Europeans sooner or later. (That is, for the purpose of this discussion, putting aside the long-established painting rituals and practices of the indigenous societies who were already here. Thats a separate story worthy of its own scholarship.)

Its hard to say exactly when cosmetics hit the shores of the Colonies, but its safe to say they didnt arrive on the Mayflower with the Pilgrims. Nor did they hold much interest for the Puritans, who were so famously persnickety and fashion averse that simplicity of style was a matter of law. The Massachusetts Bay Colony enacted in its laws a literal fashion police clause forbidding the great, superfluous, and unnecessary expenses occasioned by reason of new and immodest fashions. Although legislators specified that fancy hatbands, long wigs, and great sleeves could land you in front of a judge, oddly theres no mention of cosmetics. Its hard to specifically say why this is; its unlikely that the elders were okay with a bright pop of color paired with your understated black ensemble. It is possible it just hadnt come up yet. Makeup (which was expressly forbidden to their counterparts in Europe) was a highly impractical and luxurious contraband item for members of a religious sect trying to carve out its subsistence from an inhospitable wilderness wherein every last consumer item had to be grown, made, hunted, or imported at great expense.

As a lifestyle, however, basic black and stringent self-denial only goes so far for so many people. The Colonies, as a living, growing experiment in capitalism, religious freedom, and politics, would have to expand and adapt if they were to survive. To cut a long story short for the purpose of expediency, its necessary only to know that during the intervening couple decades in American history, cities grew, farmland was tilled, a truly impressive victory was eked out against the British Empire, and a whole new set of rules was established that were concerned less with the size of its citizens hatband and more with the lofty natural law ideals of the Enlightenment. (In theory, anyway.)

Though still a minor player in most womens dressing rituals, lip color boasts some early celebrity endorsements.

The original first lady Martha Washington had a recipe for what she immodestly described as the finest lip salve in the world that you could conceivably whip up on your own stove.