Tweezers: Beauty Tool or Means of Torture?

A girl I admired in high school once told me I had really nice eyebrows.

It as one of those rare, odd compliments that has always stuck with me. Here I am, nearly 14 years later, and I still think of her when I examine my eyebrows in the mirror. 

Truthfully, I never plucked a single hair out of my brow-line for years. I was probably 27 or 28 before I even thought about it.

That thought was made possible thanks to a less-than-friendly manicurist at a local nail salon.

I'd gone in with a friend for a pedicure, and was looking forward to being pampered for that blissful thirty minutes. I was not, however, looking to be dissed by the guy who buffs my heels. He took one look at my face as I settled into the massage chair and said, "You want I do your eyebrows?"

Thinking I'd somehow communicated that I wanted 'the works' instead of just the pedicure that day, I answered, "No, just the toes today. Thanks."

He had the audacity to smirk at me, then said, "Ok, lady. But I do eyebrow for ten dolla'. Wax away those ugly hairs." Then he put his fingers over his eyes and waggled them at me.

I was shocked. I had perfect eyebrows! Didn't he know?? I wished I was still in touch with that girl from high school, so I could call her up on the phone and let her wax philosophical about my forehead hair with Mr. Manicure. 

That evening, I came home and studied myself in the mirror. Ok, so there was an errant hair here and there. And to my horror, there was a weird one growing out of the center of my forehead. 

But other than that, my eyebrows were normal. 

Weren't they?

I turned to Google for help and realized that at some point between 1999 and 2007, the natural eyebrow look had gone out of style in lieu of the perfectly sculpted eyebrow, complete with a nearly-architectural arch.

Well, my eyebrows had never had much arch to them at all. They were sort of...flat. Like someone took a ruler and drew a line of hair across my forehead, leaving just enough space between them so I didn't look like Bert sans Ernie.

I began to doubt my friend's kind words, and myself. I immediately went to the drug store, bought my first pair of tweezers, and set to work trying to remedy this hair-fashion problem.

Let me say that whoever devised plucking as a method for hair removal was a sick, sadistic freak. I don't care what anyone says---every single hair you pull out of your face hurts like holy hell. You never get used to it. 

I'm not sure what led me to the conclusion that pulling them all out at once would hurt less than one at a time, but my next move was to schedule an eyebrow waxing from my hair stylist, LeAnn. She is wonderful, and as gentle as can be...but it still hurts. A lot. 

But, with each waxing, I get that perfect, shaped, arched eyebrow that all the fashion magazines say is the number one accessory must-have.

Still, I can't help but miss the days when I didn't have to pluck at all. Mainly because ripping hair out of my face on a regular basis seems like a form of torture that should be reserved for terrorists and the mass murderer guy that Kevin Bacon is hunting on basic cable.

Either way, I'll continue paying LeAnn to wax my eyebrows every 8 weeks. And I'll keep yanking that one weird forehead hair out on my own (before I go see her, because WHO HAS A HAIR IN THE MIDDLE OF THEIR FOREHEAD?) 

Why?

Because I liked being the girl with the perfect eyebrows.

My Skin Care Routine

Since I have Danny DeVito hands, I make a huge effort to maintain other parts of my body, since my fingernails are always destined to be short. One thing I'm 100% diligent about is my skin. I have a very specific routine that I do, twice a day, to keep my skin reminiscent of Snow White's. 


Every woman  has her beauty secrets, but because my skin care regimen works so well, it seems only fair that I outline it for you here, so that you, too, can have the flawless complexion of a Disney Princess.


And so, here are the five easy steps I use to keep my skin clean, soft, and youthful.


Step One: Start with warm water (not hot, not cold,) and gently cleanse your face with a creamy face wash. Move your fingers in a circular motion, paying special attention to your forehead, beside your nose, and your chin. Then wash away soap with, again, warm water.

All the items I use are for sensitive skin. Because every princess is sensitive.

Step Two: Don't reach for the towel just yet. Now is the time for the magical butterflies. Allow them to beat their wings gently, slowly drying your skin to sparkling perfection. This process takes 10 to 15 minutes (unless you've got the money to spend on a couple of Queen Alexandra's Birdwings...those suckers are huge. And it's more like standing behind a 747 preparing for takeoff, so they don't have quite the same effect as normal-sized butterflies.)

The more colorful they are, the more like Aurora you will feel.

Step Three:  For any residual water, feel free to delicately blot your face with your towel at this point. You should also release the song birds. Make sure you've trained them to sweetly tweet an appropriate song for this moment of your routine, such as "The Hills Are Alive," "I Feel Pretty," or for me, my favorite song from Just Dance 2, "Big Girl (You Are Beautiful.)"

They sing it in rounds. With harmony. Pretty awesome.

Step Four: Now that your face is all dry, you're ready for the next step. You can never achieve a true princess complexion without the help of my secret weapon. Hold your breath, ladies---this is bigger than any wrinkle cream on the market. Ready? It's Fairy Dust.

Shrinks wrinkles, reduces puffiness, and adds a soft glow.

Step Five: Once the butterflies have fluttered away, the birds are back in their cages, and the fairies have disappeared to another dimension, you're ready for the final step. This one's easy. Find yourself a daily moisturizer with a sunscreen in it (SPF 15 or higher), and apply it to your fresh-as-a-daisy face. 

Always remember--the sun is bad. Being a recluse is also good for the skin.

So there you have it. Abby's Five Step Guide to Disney Princess Skin. Don't laugh, it really works. Now, I'm off to feed my song birds and start training them to sing "I Like Big Butts," just because it'll be funny.