I'll never forget the day my friend Winona pulled a tube of hot-pink lipstick out of her bag. I watched from across the table as she slowly glided it along her lips, where it left a trail of neon fuchsia in its path. It was transformative, unapologetic, and about the shade of pink you might imagine Jem would paint her kitchen. Clearly, I had to try it.Now, I'm no stranger to the bold-lipstick club. I already owned MAC’s Ruby Woo and had gone through tubes and tubes of Revlon’s Cherries in the Snow (and even read Emma Forrest's novel of the same name) — but Schiap was different. It gave me an immediate feeling of confidence, of conviction, a certain kind of cool.I soon realized I wasn’t alone — this is what Schiap seemed to do for everyone who wore it. It wasn’t a lipstick you just swiped on; it was a lipstick that transformed you. Remember when Miranda puts on her skinny jeans in Sex and the City and walks out of her apartment a whole new woman? Schiap kind of works like that.