Coming Up Rosy

The new blush isn't just for the cheek. Coco Mellors feels the flush.

You're blushing! my sister cries with delight. We're playing on the front steps of our London house and have just heard skateboard wheels approaching.

I am 13 and in love with the skateboard's owner, a boy who lives up the street whom I've never actually spoken to. He has long sandy hair and an American accent. Basically, he's Kurt Cobain. It's magical and mortifying and a secret-except it's not, because it's written all over my face.

If the eyes are the window to the soul, then our cheeks are the back door. What other part of the body so readily reveals our hidden emotions? Embarrassment, exuberance, delight, desire, all instantly communicated with a rush of blood. It's no wonder that blush has been a mainstay of makeup bags for decades: Ancient Egyptians used ground ochre to heighten their color; Queen Elizabeth I dabbed her cheeks with red dye and mercuric sulfide (which, combined with the vinegar and lead concoction she used to achieve her ivory pallor, is believed to have given her blood poisoning); flappers applied blush in dramatic circles to achieve a doll-like complexion, even adding it to their knees to draw attention to their shorter hemlines.