My eyebrows are not fake. They are not mustache pluckings that I’ve manually inserted onto the region that should boast the strange, short hairs that tend to inform much more than we give credit for on our faces.
Mine are accidentally, but also very deliberately thick.
Which seems paradoxical but I have never done anything to them. I don’t even know what s/he who waxes or threads eyebrows could look like. I have never found myself strapped to a chair, in a merciful position, hoping, wishing, praying, that this week, s/he doesn’t arch my brows too visibly. And maybe I’m doing it “wrong” but if wrong means doing it “me” than I am perfectly fine with continuing to swallow criticism for what have been called by deceased professors and naysayers alike, the clearest indication that I am not of American descent.
“Those are caterpillars,” I have also gotten.
Which brings me to a terrible habit that I picked up while studying for final exams during my junior year of high school: erratic, compulsive eyebrow picking. You may remember a New Years Resolution I vowed to maintain at the turn of 2013 — I said I’d kick trichotillomania in the ass but here I am, eight months later, looking down at my keyboard to find at least five strands of eyebrow hair roaming around the keys at any given moment.
My best friend Arielle used to joke while I maniacally plucked in obvious concentration, that because she was an excellent friend, she would totally help me fill in my eyebrows right before my wedding. The offer seemed incredibly far fetched. At the time, I didn’t even have a boyfriend, much less a wedding on the imminent horizon and perhaps even more confoundingly, my eyebrows were so abundant what difference would it possibly make if I were picking them with my fingers? It started innocently enough, I essentially used to rub them like they were a fascinating rug or something. Eventually though, it turned into a full fledged picking game that actually did leave me needing help on the night before my wedding.
I tried draw in the patches which typically appear at the outermost sides of both my brows and it worked fairly well – this was nothing like the Hannah Horvath incident of Girls, season 1.
Since my wedding, the habit hasn’t gotten particularly better and maybe because women like Cara Delevingne have made large and in charge eyebrows incredibly enviable again, I feel a sense of defeat and deficiency when I look in the mirror now and wonder about what could have been, resenting the pencil I must use to fake it.
And then I got to thinking – maybe some of you face a similar problem. Whether because of your own elective or simply because your eyebrows are kind of thin, maybe, just maybe, you were wondering how to make them look thicker.
Take it from someone who knows absolutely nothing about beauty and will do whatever she can to avoid washing, creaming and applying makeup. All you need is a steady hand and an eye pencil (though I know there is such thing as brow enhancer, I’m just not that kind of girl). The one I use is by Physicians Formula. Make sure the pencil doesn’t bleed. If you have a picking problem, your finger tips will likely appear a muddy brown at the end of each day. Try to stay away from shimmer pencils unless glitter brows are your thing which come to think of it, sounds pretty awesome.
Most importantly, though, you should definitely vow to have fun with your marginal handicap. Why?
Because there’s no point otherwise. Duh.