Saturday, 15 March 2008

Raising Eyebrows at Edith Piaf

I would raise my eyebrows if I could. Well, I can - but they are currently in tatters.

You see, today I visited my beautician to have the usual waxing, which includes my eyebrows. I've been going to the same place for three years - and over that time, I've always been happy.

But not today. Today I had someone new. She seemed nice enough. We made small talk. She waxed me, then told me she was finished. Perhaps at this stage, I should have been wondering what was different about this visit, but I didn't. I left with that elated feeling of having been neatly cultivated. Went and did some shopping. Came home. Had some breakfast, read the papers, fed my baby. I went about my usual day. Until I caught sight of my reflection.

What was that? Wonky eyebrows?!

My right hand eyebrow was spotting a honking big stripe in the end of it, plus about 1/2 centimetre from the inside. And my left hand eyebrow. Heck, let me just say - one centimetre of hair had been stripped clean off.

I'm one of those women that grooms their eyebrows to be fuller rather than the slimline model sported by the likes of Edith Piaf. Now I feel like I am Edith Piaf - with wonky eyebrows.

I thought perhaps I was being a little sensitive, so I asked M to check them out. He agreed, I was missing quite a bit of hair, not just the usual tidy up, this was more like an eyebrow overhaul. I studied them a bit more, found my eyebrow pencil - and drew on what was once there, to demonstrate even further how much further this beautician had crept with the wax. It was then that M started stifling laughter - and I got teary.

I called my sister to see if I was over-reacting. Negative.

How could this have happened? I know, some people might be thinking - heck who cares, it's just your eyebrows? But that's exactly it, these are my eyebrows. The frames of my face.

For once I called up to complain - albeit, a very meek apology. I felt embarrassed for making a big deal of my eyebrows. It was during this conversation that I realised that the offending beautician didn't show me my brows once she had finished, she just jostled me from the room and sent me on my way. Maybe she thought I wouldn't notice.

I then had to go back in so another beautician could try and weave some magic. I could tell by their faces they could see my case in point. They studied my eyebrows then whisked me off to have them tinted. So now they are not only wonky, they are dark - but vastly improved and more streamlined.

If only I could raise my eyebrows.

1 comment:

Sarah said...

O.K. it's Sharon Lee or nothing from now on! Oh - O.K stands for O.K., O.K in case you didn't know.