Editor’s letter
When I look back on my adult life, I find it punctuated, alongside its significant events – graduation/love/marriage/children – by lipsticks. There was my first crush, a pearlised pink from Barry M that I wore out clubbing as a teenager. Then, to mark a new sophisticated persona during a year abroad in Paris, I invested in Mon Rouge by Paloma Picasso; and I bought a rose-pink Clinique Dramatically Different bullet in a ribbed silver case to celebrate my first proper pay-packet… Alongside my current favourites (I can’t resist Hermès’ Mondrian-esque magnetic cases, the delicious smell of Celine’s Le Rouge or the velvety staying power of Dior), I still keep these. They are now worn down to little stubs, but nevertheless can transport me straight back to my youth the moment they…