My Dad Once Said Only Two Kinds of Women Wear Red Lipstick

Growing up as a first-generation Canadian-born Punjabi girl, I lived in two worlds at once. One was filled with my parents’ traditions — values they carried with them when they came to Canada in the seventies. The other was the Western world I was born into, full of different ideals, freedoms, and choices.

At the time, I didn’t realize how lucky I was to experience both. That blend of cultures gave me perspective a sense of versatility and appreciation for the richness of identity. But it also came with its challenges, especially when it came to what it meant to be a “good woman.”

Dating was off-limits. Marriage was expected to be arranged. Makeup? That was a whole other conversation.I still remember the day my mom let my sister and me wear a bit of makeup for a basketball game a small act of teenage excitement. I felt grown-up, free, and maybe a little daring. I had red lipstick on the kind that made me feel confident, even if I didn’t yet know why. When we came home that evening, my dad was unexpectedly there. He sat us down and looked at us with a mix of concern and authority. Then he said words I’ll never forget: “Only two kinds of women wear red lipstick.” He didn’t need to explain, his tone did it for him. In his world, red lipstick wasn’t about beauty or self-expression. It was a symbol, one tied to ideas about modesty, reputation, and how a woman should present herself.

At the time, I felt embarrassed. But as I grew older, I began to understand something deeper not about lipstick, but about perspective. My dad’s words came from a place of protection, shaped by a culture where appearances often defined respectability. But as I learned to navigate my own identity, I realized that expression whether it’s through red lipstick, career choices, or independence isn’t about rebellion. It’s about freedom. Red lipstick, for me now, is not a statement of defiance but a celebration of self. It represents confidence, heritage, and the ability to honor where I come from while defining who I am on my own terms.

So when I think back to that day, I no longer hear judgment in my dad’s voice. I hear a conversation between two generations, each trying to understand what womanhood means in their world.

And today, when I put on that shade of red, I do it with pride not because I’m one kind of woman or the other, but because I finally get to decide. 💋

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