A Tale of Two Eyebrows

I don’t remember my first time. What’s weirder is that even going back and looking at pictures doesn’t help. All I know is, once I did it, I was OBSESSED with doing it. The only time I’ve gone more than three weeks without doing it was when I was in Africa.

I’m talking about getting my eyebrows waxed. Obviously.

I love my eyebrows. Is that weird? I think freshly-waxed brows do so much for a face. I’m not a splurger on beauty products. My cosmetic knowledge is basic at best. When I do wear makeup go with a less-is-more approach. But for some reason, when it comes to eyebrows, I’m pretty religious about their upkeep.

That being said, I’m too lazy to tweeze. I’ll tweeze a few here and there, but once they start filling in (but before they go all Frida Kahlo and start reaching for my temples), it’s time to call in the pros.

For the first several years I lived in LA, I went to Eyebrows Julie. That’s what I called her in real life and that’s how her name was listed in my phone. She’s fabulous. Then I moved to a different part of town and started going to a place here. Luckily there is also a Julie at the new place as well. Apparently girls named Julie really know what they’re doing when it comes to waxing things.

My weirdest eyebrow waxing experience of all time happened in a little salon in Paris. First of all, making the appointment over-the-phone: “J’ai besoin de un rendezvous pour waxing (?) les cheveux sur mes yeux?” Who ever learns the word for waxing? And yes, I didn’t know the word for eyebrows so I said “the hair on top of my eyes.” I’m sure they were appalled.

So I’m there and the lady (who was not, as I recall, named Julie) insisted on waxing my entire nose. Nobody before or since has ever suggested I needed this done. But when you’re laying in the basement of a French salon and someone suggests something like that is necessary, you go with it. That’s one convo en Francais I wish I could play back. I remember that day well because it was one of the first times I went an entire day without speaking English to anyone.

Meanwhile, my worst experience was at a random place in the Missouri town where my parents live. I laid down and said, “I like my natural arch, so just clean them up” and the lady heard “I’d like them to be pencil thin and not match each other.” They looked so bad my sister decided she no longer needed hers done. It took two months and some guidance by my regular lady to grow them back out to the look I’m accustomed to.

Which brings me back to today. There was a new girl at my regular place and it was her first day, so everyone was really anxious about her doing my brows. I could tell by their tone not their language. I was kinda nervous, but had some faith as – despite what the worst experience lady did – they are pretty hard to screw up. As it turned out, this new lady was great. She used to work in a spa in a nearby bougie suburb, and after she was done she gave me this crazy facial massage that – after I got over being weirded out – was really nice.

If you’re wondering about threading…don’t. I know people swear by it, but back in college I tried it twice. I found it way more painful and couldn’t get past the part where they run the thread through their mouths…nope.

I looked up why we have eyebrows, you know, to make this somehow educational for you. And aside from helping us make awesome expressions (wait for it), they actually serve a purpose: to divert rain and sweat from getting in our eyes. (This is the part where you should hear The More You Know chime.) I wish they kept sunscreen out too. Am I right? The worst!

In closing, enjoy this:

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One Response to A Tale of Two Eyebrows

  1. Pingback: Baby’s First Bikini Wax | Tales of a 4th Grade Nothing

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