I considered a passionate beauty in good faith. I stayed with the latest trends, and I loved experimenting with makeup. The prospect of transformation was very appealing to me.
My eyebrows are virgin territory. Although not exactly a unibrow, they were quite rebellious and seemed to grow in different directions. I decided it was time to do something, and made an appointment to get waxed in the room where I have my hair cut.
Surprisingly, I was not nervous. I had never really experienced a major disaster beauty, but one would think that my liberal use Sun-In and turquoise eyeliner reportedly described (it was 1987). Instead, I was excited about how I was going to see when my eyebrows were completed.
After checking in and being taken to a private room, I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, waiting for my eyebrows to assume their new shape. I felt confident that everything was fine until she tends to them, said, "Oops!" I was too shy to ask what had happened, but I realized that it was not fair.
I should have said or asked to see a mirror. But I did not. Despite my growing anxiety, I let her go, but my dream eyebrows like the models in magazines my mother fell.
She gave me a mirror to look at the results, and I think we both knew it was not going to be enough. Cinderella bubble had finally burst. The "Oops" moments did not give me a bow carved but had definitely gave me a transformation: I was totally naked in two places and had what appeared to be four eyebrows.
I was shocked. She apologized profusely as we walked to the reception. Fortunately, after taking a look at my four fronts, the lady at the desk did not pay for the service. For the first time in my life, and in the 27 years since, so do not switch. I lowered my head down in a hurry to my car and rushed home to show my sister.
We try to make them look better with an eyebrow pencil, but the hair on both sides of the bald patches was too thick, making it look weird. Hide under my eyebrows fringe was not an option either as my hair was short.
