I have no eyelashes.
Okay, maybe I do, but I swear I have less than fifteen per eye. And they are not exactly the Rapunzels of eyelashes.
Whenever I have my makeup professionally done, without miss, I can see the dismay on the stylist's face when it is time to put on the mascara. I have heard comments such as "oh my! what happened?" to "that's weird". It doesn't upset me, I am in fact amused by the different ways they express distaste.
It is not at all rare that the stylist decides to stick some fake eyelashes on my eyelids. I am not particularly fond of it, in fact it is quite irritating and uncomfortable. As much as I despise the wispy things, I let the stylists do their thing, I can always bitch about the discomfort at the after party, over drinks.
What I especially do not like about fake eyelashes is that, well, they are fake. I feel like a poser. I don't know why I don't see these as enhancers like foundation or lip tint.
I am definite that it is not the feminist in me that hates these eyelashes, that would be totally wrong, as I am all for killer heels. It is something else. It is something from within that just insists on rejecting them--like alien cells.
The last time I had my make up done, it was for a friend's wedding, the stylist glued fake eyelashes on me, one by one, not unlike planting rice, or maybe, hair transplant. He said that these lashes would last for a month and I should enjoy them.
That night, after taking a bath, I got my super tweezers and started pulling out the intruder lashes. I think I might have pulled some of my own, which really did not help me because of their already depleting population. I did not care.
I'm sure that I have more stylists to face and falsies to take out. I'm ready. Bring it on!
Okay, maybe I do, but I swear I have less than fifteen per eye. And they are not exactly the Rapunzels of eyelashes.
Whenever I have my makeup professionally done, without miss, I can see the dismay on the stylist's face when it is time to put on the mascara. I have heard comments such as "oh my! what happened?" to "that's weird". It doesn't upset me, I am in fact amused by the different ways they express distaste.
It is not at all rare that the stylist decides to stick some fake eyelashes on my eyelids. I am not particularly fond of it, in fact it is quite irritating and uncomfortable. As much as I despise the wispy things, I let the stylists do their thing, I can always bitch about the discomfort at the after party, over drinks.
What I especially do not like about fake eyelashes is that, well, they are fake. I feel like a poser. I don't know why I don't see these as enhancers like foundation or lip tint.
I am definite that it is not the feminist in me that hates these eyelashes, that would be totally wrong, as I am all for killer heels. It is something else. It is something from within that just insists on rejecting them--like alien cells.
The last time I had my make up done, it was for a friend's wedding, the stylist glued fake eyelashes on me, one by one, not unlike planting rice, or maybe, hair transplant. He said that these lashes would last for a month and I should enjoy them.
That night, after taking a bath, I got my super tweezers and started pulling out the intruder lashes. I think I might have pulled some of my own, which really did not help me because of their already depleting population. I did not care.
I'm sure that I have more stylists to face and falsies to take out. I'm ready. Bring it on!
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