Me? I am a slave to a good wax and tint. I tend to go to the same place to get it done as it is a bit like McDonalds, you know what you are in for. There is a local girl up the road who does a lovely arch, but she is not called Hannah the Hurter for nothing. You need to drop a trip at the door to get through it.
Uber Beauty Blogger Zoe Foster tells me (in her nifty book Amazing Face) that "A pair of brows with a perfect shape and a tint (or beautifully filled-in) means you can wear less makeup, have more hangovers, and get less botox. Not even kidding." This advice works for me on so many levels.
I have been a bit of a brow fanatic since my first ever experience with wax when I was 19. I was a uni student, prone to wearing pyjama pants to lectures, eating tacos made up with 1/2 a gram of mince and 3 tins of re-fried beans and delighting in a new show on TV called Friends. We were also big into using sunflowers as decorating motifs and of course candles. Always with the candles.
One evening, I had been burning a big-ass red candle in my bedroom for a few hours. The hot wax had built up considerably and as I turned off my Peter Andre CD to retire for the evening, I leaned in to blow that big ass red candle out. I did not blow hard enough so I lent in really close and took a big breath and BLEW harder than Divine Brown was ever capable of.
My screams could be heard throughout the share house I lived in and my two flatmates rushed in to find me lying on the ground HOWLING. My face was covered and dripping with amazingly hot wax. I was rushed to the bathroom where they stuck my face under a running tap, which didn't do much except to set the wax firmly to my skin.
Once the pain had started to subside, we began the process of peeling and chipping the wax away, which left me with a set of very VERY bad and patchy eyebrows. And a few welts from the heat. And that was my first ever experience with incidental eye brow waxing.
Which is possibly why I am so fussy about them now.
THE END
