If there’s one thing I have to be grateful about my job is that I get exposed to generous beauty brands that are willing to give everything they can. My job has spoiled me – Sephora gives us new products every few months before we they’re on the shelves, and this includes new Urban Decay makeup to play with. Having all this exposure to beauty products make me think if I should consider being a professional beauty writer.
Two days ago, I stopped by the drugstore to get some cotton and under-eye rollers because I suffer from some bad puffy, dark circles. I swear – despite my string of high-end beauty products on my shelf, I still can’t be bothered to stick to a scrupulous beauty routine. It’s inconsistent – sometimes I turn into a such a vain diva, I make sure everything goes on my face in order; sometimes I turn into such a lazy arse that I’d just wipe myself clean with a few baby wipes and then high-five myself when I go to bed. Because of this inconsistency, my skin suffers. Sometimes, I end up with a black plague (that’s what I can my blackheads), zits on my nose, and the worst – under-eye bags that resemble panda eyes. Because I had the budget, I bought two rollers; thinking that if I do it twice, my eyes will look ten times better. [That theory is still in the middle of experimentation, but when I see results, you can bet your arse that I’ll write a full report].
Real women have real problems
I don’t know about you, but drugstores have a tendency to keep me locked in for at least 15 minutes, even if I have the product I need 5 seconds after I walk in. That’s when I stumbled upon the browscara. It stood humbly on a Japanese beauty brand counter that I could not name as it was all in Japanese. I started to wonder if it was the world mocking me because I never buy products with words that I cannot read. But the browscara looked like the solution that my dilemma that’s been troubling me for months – eyebrow grooming. If there’s one thing I find absolutely hard to tolerate, it’s eyebrow grooming.
My eyebrows grow funny because every groomer I go to has a different way of shaping them. And because my brows have a mind of their own, I fear they’ll grow into a unibrow one day [because they most likely will because they have]. I’ve been considering spending over RM100 on a brow kit that comes with a wax and tweezers from Benefit. But I feel that my eyebrows do not deserve that kind of luxury because they’re just hair. I started thinking about how much I’d have to spend on my eyebrows for the rest of my life and had a headache. RM100 is what I will pay for an eyeshadow palette or a bottle of foundation. Or new shoes. Or a fancy vaginal douche made of gold.
So, convinced by the browscara and never mind that I can’t read Japanese, I took the last bottle standing and put it in my shopping basket, feeling like a scientist who has just found a cure for cancer.
I decided to use it the next day to work. I find there’s no need to explain how to use it since I’m quite possibly doing it the retard way, but I think it should be basic – just brush it on your brows. Duh!
Looking at my eyebrows, I realized how I amazing they look. They’ve never looked this amazing ever. Clearly, I’ve finally earned power over my eyebrows. I’ve gotten numerous compliments about how they look. I even took to Facebook and shared my rejoiced discovery in the form of a very puzzling status.
“Finally broke my eyebrow mascara virginity. I want to be an eyebrow mascara slut now.”
Unfortunately, this status didn’t get the attention it deserved. But one friend of mine, a guy to be exact, was quite confused and started to wonder if I was slut.
“Eyebrow mascara virginity makes sense, but eyebrow mascara slut still means you’re a slut using mascara on the eyebrows. Like a slut.”
I would assume that some women would be terrifyingly insulted by this misinformation, but I actually found it quite hilarious. I put up sexually-suggestive entendres in my Facebook statuses because I really enjoy how people respond to them. I just did one this afternoon as I almost done with work: “After this load, I’m taking a nap.”
I could mean that I was just taking my hoo-ha to town, but it’s really the work load. My dear friend Forrest responded with a subtle “…said the prostitute.” Obviously, I was laughing my arse off when he said that.
But how did I respond to my friend’s comment? Clearly he misunderstood the concept of eyebrow mascara slut. Naturally, as a browscara slut, it was my duty to educate him [and the rest of my Facebook social circle, apparently] what a browscara slut is.
“Quite the contrary. I’m just saying that my eyebrows like this magical thing called ‘eyebrow mascara’ and it wants to forever indulge in this amazing piece of beauty marketing. It has nothing to do with sex at all.”
It wasn’t as articulate and fancy as I wanted to. I had an allegory about the wand being a penis and how my eyebrows wanted it to spread its hot mascara stew all over my brows, but I have my parents and a few extended family members on Facebook. I really don’t want to have another one of these talks about how overly expressive I am. Or how my parents might rethink their decision to support me as I pursue a career in writing.
All-in-all, I now want to go out to Sephora and buy as many eyebrow mascaras now. But I shouldn’t. I want Dr Martens for my trip to Melbourne in October, and this tube should do me some good for a month or so.
Until then, do recommend a couple of browscaras! Help a sista out.
Dirt & Candy 