Day 44
I have a thing for eyebrows. Well, actually, I have a thing against eyebrows. Not that I think anyone should look like Clara Bow (who I’m pretty sure shaved off her eyebrows and then penciled in new ones) but I’m just not a fan of eyebrow hair. Not on ME, anyway.
I know, that sounds really weird. Sounds that way even to me! But it is what it is.
I, personally, have been known to – let’s put it mildly – overpluck. I get a little zealous with the tweezers and then, damn … I look like Clara Bow! No E-B’s (as my Dad calls them).
And it’s not that I have none … they are just rather sparse and short and well … I definitely make good use of my eyebrow pencil to fill in.
I, normally, have a very pointy arch … so it looks like I’m perpetually surprised. I don’t favor that look much … so, I thought I’d soften it a bit. Hence the zealous tweezing and … oops … no more E-B’s. Or at least far fewer than looked good.
For years my eyebrows were a non-issue. They were just there over my eyes minding their own business. Then one day I realized I had my grandfather’s eyebrows. I don’t have his actual eyebrows (ew) but rather somehow, and pretty much overnight, my eyebrows suddenly looked like they were those of a 90 year old man.
Um, not pretty.
When we were in Chicago last fall we were on the el train coming home from one of the museums and the gentleman sitting next to us had the most enormous eyebrows I’ve ever seen. He made my grandfather’s bushy, overgrown tangles look trim and tame. If there was a contest for growing eyebrows, and if he entered it, this man surely could have won. They were impressive. Gross, but impressive. It was as if he had a pair of gray wooly caterpillars lodged on his forehead … waving their antennae, as well. Yeah … not good. But, again, impressive.
And then one day I realized I had a younger version of those E-B’s. Reminiscent of my grandfather’s. Bad on a gentleman of ascending age … worse on a woman of mine! Double ew!
So, tweezers in hand I decided to get rid of the bushiness that had (somehow) taken over in the space above my eyes. And clearly – no one else noticed this eyebrow situation other than me – but it was staring me in the face (quite literally) every time I looked in the mirror and … pluck, pluck, pluck … oops. Surprised caterpillars no more.
So, now … having done the deed of over-tweezing I am hoping that the hairs grow back in and that the brows I have will no longer look like the tufts at the ends of owl’s ears. But, it’s been a long time and I don’t see anything happening or filling in. I think I startled them into a non-growth pattern. Whatever.
Good thing I have my handy-dandy light brown eyebrow pencil and that I’m getting good at feathering on fake ones. I could give Clara Bow a run for her money!