Love and Lipstick: What a Little Blue Suitcase Taught Me

A Mother’s Day Reflection on Beauty, Memory, and Imperfection

I recently stumbled across an old blog post I wrote a decade ago—a sentimental ode to Clinique’s Double Truffle lipstick and the stories it carried. At the time, I was mildly panicked that it had been discontinued and found myself stockpiling tubes like a doomsday prepper, ducking into department stores like a woman on a mission. I wasn’t loyal to the brand. I was loyal to the comfort it symbolized. Honestly? It was less about the lipstick and more about what it represented.

Back then, I wrote about how that tube of color was a “transitional object”—the adult version of a blankie or beloved stuffed animal. In psychology, we talk about these things as sources of comfort when a child separates from a caregiver.

And truthfully, the lipstick was that for me. A tiny totem I carried from girlhood into motherhood, tethered to the memory of watching my mom—an elegant German immigrant and stealth Avon Lady—transform her kitchen table into a magical makeup counter. She was—and still is—a perfectionist with strong opinions on covering up eye circles and having a classic haircut that fits the contour of your head.

Mother and Daughter, Jones Beach, NY

I once heard linguistics professor Deborah Tannen say in a radio interview that moms all over the world comment on three things: appearance, hair, and weight—fueling the never-ending arguments and hurt feelings. Tannen analyzed hours’ worth of conversations between mothers and daughters for her book You're Wearing That?: Understanding Mothers and Daughters in Conversation. Mothers want to offer advice; daughters want validation. Alas, the intention may be good, but communication needs more grace.

Even so, I can still picture the little suitcase my mom the Avon Lady carried, filled with miniature kit for baby lipsticks and Skin So Soft samples. I remember the orderliness of it all—the soothing click of bottles being tucked into their proper compartments. Even when our cupboards were bare and we relied on food stamps, she found a way to show up to her customers with dignity, charm, and generosity. She sprinkled seed of compassion to all she met. She brought hand-me-downs to families who needed them. She dabbed colors on their wrists and listened to their stories.

She made beauty personal.

I even found (and purchased, out of sheer nostalgia) a vintage Avon sample lipstick case on Etsy—complete with tiny tubes and throwback colors. I will find a new purpose for it. It’s a meaningful reminder of all she carried.

But oh the frustrations! While we had a household of cosmetics she wouldn’t let us wear makeup until we were sixteen. Of course, my sister and I just applied it on the school bus anyway and could give lessons like the best of industry cosmetologists.

When my two girls came of age, the only advice I gave them was sadly ecomical: that finding a lipstick that matches your complexion is the only item you really need because it can serve two purposes—gloss on the lips and rouge on the cheeks—so you don’t look like a living corpse.

I don’t think women even use the word rouge these days. It’s such an elegant term, especailly the way my mother rolled the “r” in her German accent. Just a little rrrrouge, darling.

Fast-forward to now: my daughters are young women, and I no longer need a signature lipstick to feel like myself. These days, they’re the ones who give me beauty tips. They school me on eyebrow shaping, natural tan lotions, skincare ingredients I can’t pronounce, and the politics of TikTok trends I can barely follow. They also remind me, in their own quiet way, that being a woman today means something very different than it did when I was their age. They are so chill.

Still, so much remains the same.

And here’s the truth I continue to learn: moms mean well—and much of my perfectionism can be traced to conditioning: family, media, the culture. I carry some of my mother’s “self-presentation style” flavor of perfectionism, but I also carry her resilience, her high standards, and her self-sacrificing tendencies. It’s in my bones to strive for excellence—and my challange to accept aging in stride.

If there is any consolation, my mother at 87 remains the most stylish person in church. Of course, I know that beauty doesn’t live in the polish or the pose. It lives in the quirks and imperfections.

Mother’s Day makes me feel all of this more acutely—the anticipation of time left with my mom, the awe of witnessing my daughters become their own women, and the humility of being somewhere in between.

Today, I’m still working on letting go—of old, inherited ideals and the image of my younger self. But I also hold tight to the legacy of care, connection, and quiet courage that came from a little blue suitcase—handed down with love.

When I buy lipstick now, it can be from a drugstore for all I care—but I never go anywhere without it. I think of my beautiful mother in her thirties, with the azure Avon suitcase in one hand and my tiny hand in the other, as we stood at the porch door of the next customer’s home.

She always let me ring the doorbell.

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Praise for The Perfectionist’s Dilemma

“The Perfectionist’s Dilemma is a brilliant book. The writing is warm, smart, funny in the right places, and accessible, packed with fascinating clinical insights, high-profile case studies, and reams of actionable, evidence-based advice grounded in Cousineau’s holistic EVOLVE framework. It's a must-read for the frazzled perfectionist.”

—Thomas Curran, leading perfectionism researcher and author of The Perfection Trap: Embracing the Power of Good Enough

“Dr. Tara Cousineau cares deeply about her clients and equally those seeking as her readers. She wants to help you to open your heart, to love abundantly, and foremost find vitality and meaning in this precious journey of life. Dr. Cousineau helps to make a transition from empty achievement to a vibrant sense of contribution.”

—Lisa Miller, Ph.D., Columbia University Professor and Author, The Awakened Brain; The New Science of Spirituality and Our Quest for an Inspired Life

“Whether you think of perfectionism as a badge or a burden, it’s not doing us any favors. In The Perfectionist’s Dilemma, Tara Cousineau gives us a gem of a book and what is effectively a user’s manual for anyone walking around with a nervous system. You’d expect smart and insightful from a psychologist, but what sets this book apart is its warmth, wisdom, and belief in human potential.”

—Terri Trespicio, author, Unfollow Your Passion: How to Create a Life that Matters to You

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