Suzanne Harrington: Lady masks may have slipped during lockdown, but we don't have to put them back on

A favourite insult amongst my relatives is ‘your lipstick is crooked.’ The other day, about to meet friends for the first time in forever, mine really was. It had been so long since I’d put any on that I drew outside the lines.

A favourite insult among my relatives is ‘your lipstick is crooked.’ The other day, about to meet friends for the first time in forever, mine really was. It had been so long since I’d put any on that I drew outside the lines. Daughter’s eyeliner, formerly perfect Amy Winehouse cat-flicks, was equally wonky.

Our Lady Masks have slipped, from lack of practice. We stood there, wiping our faces like clowns after a circus, before slinging the lipstick and eyeliner back in its box. We couldn’t be arsed.