Feminist but Feminine: Why Loving Lipstick Doesn’t Make Me Less Woke

“You don’t look like a feminist.”

The first time someone said that to me, I was 17.

I was wearing a vintage blouse, winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut a man’s ego, and patent leather heels that clacked like punctuation marks on the school hallway floor.

The comment came with a half-smile, like a compliment, but it stung.

Like I’d violated some kind of code.

Like my femininity canceled out my convictions.

I didn’t know how to explain it then, but I do now.

Feminism was never meant to be a uniform.

It was meant to be a liberation.

The Feminist “Look” Is a Lie

There’s an unspoken script about what feminists are supposed to look like.

And if you deviate from that script, people treat you like a contradiction.

Wear makeup? You’re superficial.

Love dresses? You’re upholding the patriarchy.

Post selfies? You must be seeking male validation.

On the flip side—

Skip makeup? You’re angry.

Dress down? You’ve “let yourself go.”

Refuse to smile? You’re bitter.

The real contradiction isn’t in how feminists look.

It’s in how the world refuses to let them just be.

The Trap of the “Strong Woman” Aesthetic

Modern feminism has traded corsets for blazers.

Now, power is often framed as minimalism.

Neutrals. Structure. No nonsense. No frill. No femininity.

We’re still being told what to wear—

It’s just now in the name of “seriousness.”

But here’s the radical truth:

Lipstick doesn’t weaken your words.

Heels don’t diminish your intellect.

Glitter doesn’t make your politics less legitimate.

You can burn down patriarchy in combat boots

—or in a crop top. The fire still burns.

Femininity Is Not the Enemy—Control Is

People confuse femininity with compliance.

They assume if you love softness, you must be soft in the wrong ways.

But femininity is not inherently submissive.

It is not weak.

It is not always performative.

The problem isn’t lipstick.

It’s when women are expected to wear it.

It’s when we feel unworthy without it.

It’s when it becomes the currency for our respect.

Feminism doesn’t ask us to reject beauty.

It asks us to reclaim choice.

A History of Aesthetic Rebellion

Let’s not forget: fashion has always been political.

• In the 1920s, flappers cut their hair and bared their knees in protest.

• In the 1960s, second-wave feminists famously threw bras in trash cans—not because bras were evil, but because compulsion was.

• In modern Iran, women risk arrest for showing strands of hair in public.

• In India, red bindis and saris are being reclaimed by feminists to challenge colonial and patriarchal narratives.

How we dress has never been “just clothes.”

It’s cultural language. It’s autonomy. It’s resistance—when it’s ours to choose.

Beauty as Joy, Not Obligation

There are days I paint my lips blood red—not because I’m hiding, but because it makes me feel alive.

There is a quiet power in loving how you look for yourself.

Not to attract. Not to distract. But to delight.

A beautifully lined eye doesn’t cancel out your rage.

A carefully styled outfit doesn’t invalidate your politics.

If anything, beauty chosen on your own terms becomes a form of protest.

“I get to be beautiful and dangerous.”

“I get to be elegant and loud.”

“I get to be complex.”

Let’s Talk About Internalized Misogyny

Here’s the part that stings:

Sometimes, the people who most harshly judge feminine feminists… are other women.

Because we’ve been taught—deeply, quietly—that there’s only one way to be taken seriously.

That power must come without polish.

That softness is suspicious.

That being too “girly” means we’re not committed to the cause.

But that’s not feminism. That’s patriarchy in a different costume.

If we shame each other for our choices, we’re not dismantling the system.

We’re reinforcing it.

The Personal is Political—And Personal Can Be Pretty

Feminism is not about sameness.

It’s not a club with a dress code.

It’s a movement built on the freedom to choose.

And for some of us, that means choosing:

• Red nails and reproductive rights.

• Lace bras and legal equity.

• Romantic poetry and pay parity.

• Aesthetic indulgence and advocacy.

The revolution doesn’t have to look like combat.

Sometimes, it looks like wearing what you were once shamed for—and owning it.

To the Girls Who Love Lipstick and Liberation

You are allowed to:

• Be both soft and sharp.

• Cry during protests.

• Organize in heels.

• Love romantic movies and still demand feminist reform.

• Post selfies and still dismantle systems.

Because power doesn’t always roar.

Sometimes it purrs.

Sometimes it walks into the room in red boots and doesn’t apologize for being seen.

You don’t have to strip away your femininity to be taken seriously.

You just have to refuse to let it be defined by someone else.

Don’t Dim the Sparkle to Prove the Fire

You can be glitter and grit.

You can be soft curves and sharp edges.

You can be all the contradictions they told you couldn’t coexist.

Because feminism isn’t about rejecting who we are.

It’s about returning to ourselves fully—beauty, brains, body, and all.

So wear the lipstick.

Wear the boots.

Wear the fire on your face.

Because nothing is more feminist than choosing yourself.