Butter. Eggs. Powdered Wigs. Painted Smiles.

Today I decided to start this journal. I was putting it off – there was always something coming up demanding my time, allowing me to procrastinate journaling online.

And here I am. On my favorite armchair with my laptop. I can smell the brioche I just baked. It’s cooling on the rack in the kitchen.

Brioche. Some might say, “A fussy bread for demanding palates.” I’m not a huge fan myself. I am more focaccia, baguette, and rustic artisan round loaves.

Earlier, I rummaged through my drawer and found an old lipstick – my favorite shade – that was used up – worn to the nub and down to the metal. Don’t know why I kept it. I was looking at it, just sort of staring at it – in wonder.

“Painted smiles” came to mind. As I threw out the tube, I realized I threw out a tool for creating masks. The lipstick was a cylinder of painted performance.

The brioche, in the kitchen, performed its display of sophistication and wealth – a bread bearing a rich dose of butter and eggs.

Why does Marie Antoinette come to mind now as I write this?

Because she was said to have uttered “Qu’ils mangent de la brioche”.

You know, “Let them eat cake”.

Well, brioche isn’t cake. So there was a translation faux pas handed down through the centuries.

And she probably never muttered that line – although she could have. It would have fit the mindset and the mood of the times.

I am thinking about the lipstick I threw in the garbage. Expensive. Although I don’t bother with lipstick now, I did wear it all the time for years.

At one time, I considered it a must. Felt naked without it. Wouldn’t go out with its smear. It’s a painted touch.

No different from what a powdered wig was to the ladies back then – in the days of she who was said to have declared, “Let them eat cake (actually brioche).”

And I made a brioche.

A rustic loaf doesn’t have the same ‘finesse’, I suppose?

You know, the Earl of Sandwich was said to have ‘invented’ the sandwich. Is that why it ‘caught on’?

We have seen the buffoonery over the centuries.

Are we still at it?