
You don’t have to be a tetrachromat to recognize a shade created by Gregoris Pyrpylis. As the creative director of Hermès Beauty, the Greece-born, Paris-based makeup artist works in microtones and glimmers, concocting jamais vu versions of a classic brick-red lip or smoked-out gray shadow. For his latest collection—17 sheer, silk-inspired lipsticks—he plays with the idea of color, suspending pigments in a texture as airy as organza, laced with a barely-there shimmer— just enough to catch the light and flatter absolutely everyone. “That was my goal!” Pyrpylis says. “You can close your eyes, pick any color, and it will still look beautiful.”
How much silk did you surround yourself with when designing this lipstick collection?
You know when you wear a silk scarf around your neck, and it creates this radiance on the skin? I’ve always thought that lipstick has this same power. Even before Hermès, I wore silk scarves—the small ones that fit in a suit pocket. They bring such beautiful light to the face. When I’m tired, I wear one. I wanted the lipstick to feel like that. In the ’90s, my mom would pick me up from school wearing a long silk scarf. She would hold my hand as we walked, and the scarf would float in front of my face. I would look at the world through it.
For the lipstick, I borrowed this transparency from chiffon, shine from silk lamé, the caressing feel of tulle. It’s a melting pot of my favorite elements. The memory of sunlight shining on the Aegean sea inspired the soft shimmer of some of these shades.
Can you tell us more about how memory influences your work?
I grew up in a place where beauty comes through light, through the transition of the seasons. Everything transforms while keeping its essence. I fall in love with the sparkles on the sea in summer, and I also find beauty in the winter sea, when it’s rougher and the blue is a different hue. It’s about having open eyes, an open mind, and observing. I think that’s where I fit in with the house of Hermès. We don’t try to transform with makeup—we try to express and celebrate what’s already there.
You mentioned that you think Rothko would have made a great makeup artist. Are there other artists who influence your use of color?
Rothko’s colors are so singular. When you stand in front of one of his paintings, you get a vibration from the color. It’s almost spiritual. Josef Albers was also a great influence—he taught me how a specific color can interact with a specific complexion. Helen Frankenthaler’s eye for the transparency and evolution of color inspires me too. For this particular collection, there’s a beautiful painting by Matisse, L’Atelier Rouge. I’ve always loved this specific shade of red. Yesterday I was at MoMA, and there it was.
Was there a particular moment growing up when you decided to become a makeup artist?
I remember it exactly. One day at university, my best friend wanted to go out. She had a small makeup bag—three or four products—and I did her makeup. She had a kind of caramel terra-cotta lipstick, and I used it for her lips, cheeks, and eyes, and added a bit of mascara. It was natural, but she looked in the mirror and felt in sync with herself. I’ve seen that moment with other women—models, actresses, even my mom. She’s always minimal with makeup, but the moment she applies it, there’s a transformation. The inner self and the outer self snap into alignment.