Lee’s lovey lips

Lee’s lovely lips were an emblem of her power. Tall, untamed and mouthy, the Amazonian American loved to speak her mind and was known for her loud, raucous laugh. Immortalized by her lovers, her lips also became a symbol of sensuality. In his painting ‘The Lovers’ for example, Man Ray blew them up and let them take over the sky.

But as Lee aged, she would increasingly devote herself to her sense of taste. She had no desire to become a professional chef, yet her elaborate dinners featuring Surrealist surprises such as blue spaghetti, relish-stuffed lychees and chicken covered in gold leaf were legendary. To quote Lee’s biographer Carolyn Burke: the alchemy of the kitchen fired her imagination. It also triggered her delicious deviousness. After a snooty British food critic dissed the American obsession with marshmallows and Coca-Cola, Lee made him a ‘bombe surprise’ for dessert which he devoured. I love to imagine Lee’s triumphant expression as she told him afterwards it was marshmallow-Cola ice cream! Lee once described cooking as ‘pure therapy’. When her mother died, she channeled her grief into making a huge batch of red-pepper marmalade. And then there were Lee’s traumas; from her childhood rape to the horrors she saw during the war. Too unspeakable to pass her beautiful lips, maybe these tragedies found their outlet in Lee’s spicy stews and fragrant soups. I like to think so.