Although none of these little mini pens come in the signature Mac Morange ultra bright neon shimmer orange color that I slap on my lips almost every hour of the day, they’ve been a staple in my purse ever since I received three of them for Christmas. They’re the exact size of and dead ringers for a real tube of lipstick so, as someone who always carries multiple pens because I’m forever writing myself notes, size and beauty rank these high on my list of practical kitsch accoutrements.

I hate keeping things in my head. I don’t like my brain clogged with anything other than empty space for ideas to float around in and percolate. And, despite the fact that I have three iPhones because I can’t take the time to look for my phone when I inevitably misplace it, I’m still in the habit of scribbling notes on little pieces of paper.

And just as I am with iPhones (and pocket recorders and keys and anything else that’s small that I need to put my hands on at a moment’s notice), I’m incapable of only owning one lipstick pen.

I tried to live with just these three for a couple weeks but broke down today and went on the hunt for them online. I was going to get a conveniently priced set of 12 but was watching Extreme Couponing on TLC during my search so felt inspired to stockpile. In just a few days I’ll be the proud recipient of enough lipstick pens to keep one constantly in sight for a year. My one regret is that the pens don’t come in all these gorgeous 1970’s shades:

I still get a thrill when I uncork a new tube of lipstick for the first time and that perfectly shaped oval ski slope of slick, untouched color emerges. If you’re someone who loves lipstick, there’s nothing like that first virgin drag across your lips. I like lipstick so much that I have several other lipstick shaped  items.  For example, I have a lipstick camera,

… a lipstick umbrella

… and several lipstick lighters.

But most beautiful of all are my new lipstick pens!

It’s been dripping for days in LA. I used to spend so much time looking for my umbrella, the rain would end before I even made it outside. So began my umbrella collection. Of course, then I could never bring myself to use any of the vintage ones I collected because they would get ruined in the rain. So I started buying a bunch of cheap ones, of which this lipstick umbrella, picked up at the 99¢ store about 10 years ago, was one of my favorites. But it’s soooooo cheap that the first time it rained after I bought it I never got it to fold up again to fit back into the cheap white plastic tube. Soooooo cheap that even just lying in my purse the tube got poked full of holes from my pens. So I tossed my crippled lipstick umbrella out and headed back to the 99¢ store where I bought the last one on the shelf and committed to never opening it so I could preserve its lipstick loveliness. This became a persistent problem every time it rained as I struggled whether I should get my one-time-only use out of the umbrella or preserve it for my kitsch collection as I was also always the type to leave my umbrella at whatever destination I happened to be in should the weather have cleared before I left to come home.

Everything changed when I started buying golf umbrellas. This started when I was spending so much time in New York for my musical, The Color Purple, and had to schlep around computers, keyboards, books and whatever else it took to emulate my studio and work habits back in LA. What a revelation the golf umbrella was! All of a sudden, I didn’t need to decide whether the back half or front half of me was going to get wet or whether my body would stay dry but I’d sacrifice my purse or backpack to the elements. As long as you had a hand to carry it or a way of balancing it against some body part, a golf umbrella was like having your own private building move with you. Of course, it’s ideal to be of a certain height and you MUST have street sense while using it, but for me this was definitely the way to go. These days I always have enough golf umbrellas at any one time that I never again have to worry about losing my umbrella.

Which means that I don’t have to disrupt the sanctity of the not-really lipstick umbrella by removing its plastic tube. Or having to deal with its un-ergonomically designed the little lipstick nub handle once its opened.

If you see anyone walking around LA today looking like this it’s me.