Lipstick
Lipstick

Analysis

Lipstick and the budget: A monologue in colour

So they taxed lipstick.

Price hikes on lipstick. You have to admit, it’s oddly poetic. The one product that’s always been about visibility, resistance, and pride is now also a fiscal footnote. Somewhere between fuel prices and fertiliser subsidies, our humble lipstick has made it into the economic spotlight.

It is all over social media. The price of makeup products is set to rise—but among all the contour kits and concealers, lipstick has stolen the show. The reactions? Cheeky, loud, and fabulous—as they should be. Memes, reels, protest poems, and mock eulogies for our favorite shades are pouring in.

But let’s take a beat. Behind the jokes and the eye-rolls, there’s something worth unpacking. Because lipstick—yes, in every shade from nude to neon—has never really been just about looking pretty. It is a stick of defiance. A creamy manifesto. A bold punctuation mark on the face of history.

From ancient Mesopotamia, where crushed gemstones adorned the lips of royalty, to Cleopatra mixing crushed bugs (carmine) and wax for that perfect crimson pout—lipstick has always been a symbol of power. Centuries later, Queen Elizabeth I rocked her ghostly white face and bright red lips with royal defiance, setting trends and trembling courtiers alike.

Fast forward a few centuries, and here we are. In the 20th century, suffragettes painted their lips before marching for the vote. Lipstick became armour—small, sleek, and subversive. Red, pink, brown, plum, coral—it did not matter. What mattered was the act. The declaration: I am here. I am seen. And yes, I will take up space.

Lipstick has played quiet roles in loud revolutions. Worn in protests, in pride parades, in rallies, in courtroom victories, and after heartbreaks. It is been dabbed on before job interviews, first dates, final exams, and family showdowns.

In 1952, Revlon’s iconic “Fire & Ice” campaign asked women: “Are you made for it?” That was not just advertising—that was a dare. And we answered. Boldly. With a swipe.

Then came MAC’s Viva Glam in the ’90s, when lipstick went from flirtation to philanthropy. Buy a lipstick, support people living with HIV/AIDS. That tiny tube? It funded millions in healthcare.

And do not even get us started on World War II. When Hitler reportedly banned lipstick in Nazi ideology, Allied women responded by wearing it more. Red, yes—but also berry, rose, wine. Anything to say, “We’re not afraid. We’re fabulous.”

Lipstick has played quiet roles in loud revolutions. Worn in protests, in pride parades, in rallies, in courtroom victories, and after heartbreaks. It is been dabbed on before job interviews, first dates, final exams, and family showdowns.

So now, in 2025, we hear that the price of lipstick is going up. In the name of austerity, reform, priorities. And yes, maybe it is just a few extra taka per tube. But oh, the symbolism.

Because if there is one thing history has taught us, it is that you do not mess with a woman’s lipstick budget. Not because she is vain—but because she is not. That swipe on her lips? It is focus. It is identity. It is the line between feeling invisible and feeling invincible.

Raise the price? We will adjust. We will find dupes, DIY hacks, sales, second-hand makeup groups (yes, those exist). We have always been resourceful.

DIY or Die Trying

Already, TikTok is brimming with beetroot stain tutorials and cocoa-powder lip balm concoctions. Aunties are pulling out age-old tricks from pre-Lakmé days. “We used to mash hibiscus petals, darling. You don’t need Sephora.”

And Gen Z? They’re turning this into performance art. Lipstick as protest. As punchline. As pride. One tweet said: “They taxed lipstick thinking we would back down? Honey, we will start an underground lipstick cartel if we have to.”

Let’s not forget how lipstick plays out across cultures. In some parts of South Asia, bold lips are still whispered about, judged, or forbidden. Yet in those very places, women wear it anyway—sometimes in secret, sometimes in full glory. In East Asia, soft gradients dominate. In Latin America, bright lips are cultural staples. In each place, the meaning of lipstick changes, but the symbolism holds: expression, intention, defiance.

Even in rural India, there’s an oft-told tale—perhaps more legend than fact—of women using lipstick to hide signs of anaemia. Because pale lips mean questions, judgments, assumptions. A little colour? A little control over the narrative.

So what now?

Now we meme. We laugh. We share our before-and-after tax lipstick hauls. But behind the jibes, there is fire. Because lipstick is not just makeup. It is motivation. It is magic. It is how we show up—even when the world says, “Not today.”

Go ahead, raise the price.

Because every shade—from soft peach to electric blue—is a form of survival. And survival, darling, is always in style.

Because lipstick may be taxed. But visibility? That’s priceless.

Let’s rewind.