I'm a complete dolt and somehow figured it'd be a good idea to groom while still bleary eyed. As wakefulness crept in, I noticed that I had plucked away far too much of my inner left brow. Fuhhh...
After a week of improvising with eyeliner, I traipsed over to the nearest make up counter to pick up a brow pencil. This could be the chance to finally (though, artificially) have the bushy Jennifer Connellys that I had yearned for.
The woman at the Chanel counter was a hot mess. She had these oily black grease arches where brows normally would be found, a la Anpanman. I told her that I needed to pick up a brow pencil, when I should have been running the other way.
"Um, dark brown?" I stabbed. I'd always read that one should choose a color 1 shade lighter than her hair.
"Oh, no. You need black. That's what I use. This one if for people like us."
My eyes were wide and panic stricken. People like us?!? I'm nothing like you, lady! But, resistance was futile. I handed over my card and left with the blackest of black pencils. The little brush at the opposite end & sharpener seem to be consolatory prizes.
Later that evening, I consulted my brow buff of a mother who was born with barely there brows. She has been sketching them in since the Eisenhower Administration. She informed me that people shouldn't only see two brows when I enter a room and gave me a how-to sesh.
Some days, I get carried away and look overly serious or mean. Other days, I get sweaty. Once in a while, they're just right.