March weather in many parts of the world is temperamental, alternating between tempestuous and tranquil, hence the saying, March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb!
A. E. Housman alludes to ambivalent March weather in his poem, Loveliest of trees, the cherry now, part of the collection, A Shropshire Lad, where he also reflects on the brevity of life and resolves to live the rest of his life with intensity.
If your’ve worn lipstick, even in mid-century, you may be familiar with Revlon’s famous Cherries in the Snow shade, continuously produced since 1944, when wearing lipstick was verboten for many Mennonite girls and women.
My craving for red lipstick — crimson, scarlet — even cherry, colored one of my memoir chapters in Mennonite Daughter: The Story of a Plain Girl
Before I went back across the street to Grandma’s, I would have to use Kleenex tissue to rub off the evidence of my experiments with Sis Groff’s lipstick, hoping my scarlet lip stain would disappear. Once Grandma discovered a tube of lipstick labeled “Cherries in the Snow” that my sister Janice had brought back from Sis’s house and made her throw it down the hole of the outhouse in the backyard. That didn’t stop us, though. My sisters and I continued our craze for color, from a tube or even from God’s great creation. Out back by the rose bushes at our home, we pinched off bright, velvety petals, and pasted the curvy blobs of crimson or garnet to our lips, moistened to stick with spit. Banned from the world of bright lipstick and matching nail polish, we improvised with natural bloom. We acted silly, pursing our lips and tilting our heads as we watched our girlish faces reflect clownish gestures from the garage window. Naturally, it was just pretend. I couldn’t imagine then ever looking fancy for real.
How has weather in the month of March begun in your part of the world?
Did you ever crave a cosmetic color that has been discontinued?