the power of a good lipstick

I love to be a woman when someone holds the door for me.
It makes me want to curl my hair.
And wear lipstick.
And dance the waltz in a skirt that twirls when I do.

I love to be a woman when there are only other women around: the kind of women who seep wisdom from their pores.
Because there is always wine.
And passion.
And it makes me feel sexy to be passionate around intelligent women drinking wine.
(Especially if there is lipstick involved)

It makes me wonder what on earth could leave a man feeling perfectly fitted and contented in his own skin.
Surely beer kegs and football does not evoke this same deep satisfaction.
But, perhaps they wear lipstick too.