The Fantasy Scenario In Which I Can Imagine Myself Wearing This Lipstick

Just as the alarm sounds to tell you that the doors are closing, a woman bounds onto the 8 AM train.  She's in low heels, sheer black nylons, and a dark skirted suit, very conservative and businesslike.  Hair's up in a well-pinned french roll with a slight quiff, sleek and put-together.  She sits down but remains erect, smoothing her skirt front and back.

When she pulls a compact mirror out of her purse (barely larger than a clutch, logoless and nondescript in an expensive-looking way) and starts gently powdering her face, it's a little offputting--doing makeup on the train?  Pretty much on the same level as clipping your toenails on the bus, as far as I'm concerned.  Keep personal care personal.  Anyway, she lightly powders her lips and replaces the puff.  I guess she's fairly made-up already, mostly around the eyes.  Unusually light on the blush and bronzer for Glasgow.  She pulls a short, slim tube out of her purse.  It's some kind of lip gloss in a navy-colored bottle, which she sets on the little table to unscrew.  Compact mirror in her left hand, she touches the applicator to her lips.  It's dark, darker than you expected.  The color of the bottle actually seems to be the color of the gloss itself. 

With a practiced hand she draws herself a little bee-stung mouth, then very carefully makes eye contact with absolutely no one on the train the whole journey in, just gazing out the window at the cows.