Nope. Never doing it again. Unless I absolutely need to.
Look, I am not “desperate to celebrate.” I’m not aiming for celebrity status and what not. I’ve got a decent paying job that feeds me, clothes me, keeps the roof over my head, and helps me afford decent skincare products. I am not a beauty blogger. I won’t take that responsibility for your face and limbs.
I’m just a me-blogger. A bit of narcissism thrown in with self-deprecating humour so you can tolerate my thoughts and words.
Anyway, growing up, I never saw my mom stay for hours in the salon to have her hair and nails done. Not her thing. I remember her washing her face with soap, using Eskinol (popular cleanser in the Philippines), then moisturising with Oil of Olay. Not the fancy shmancy ones we have now; regenerist-whatever-ist. Just Oil of Olay in a bottle. (Although, I think I bought her some Regenerist a couple of years back.) Later on, she used Anew from Avon. Which I sold to her. No discount.
What? She insisted. Mothers know best, right?
So all this salon stuff, not my thing either. I am not paying strangers to invade my personal space for something so non-essential. I have to admit I have done some hair treatments in the past but I can just count those times with one hand. I have sensitive skin and it doesn’t leave me much room to be adventurous. I’ve done pageant stuff. Some of the makeup the artists used did make me itch.
Now, living in London for a while, I see loads of fashionistas. Fine. I mean, no harm being in fashion. I just don’t get the thick, stage-pageant make-up fuss on a daily basis. I just can’t. I mean, you have to draw the line between self-care and mission-impossible-undercover-spy. I wonder if these women’s own mothers would even recognise them if they saw them on the street?
Granted, some people have skin problems that make it really difficult to be seen. Or some people might work under heavy lights (i.e. tv presenters, stage actors, pageant queens, etc.). But if you’re just going to be sitting behind a desk shuffling papers. Erm… No. Just no.
You don’t need all those layers of foundation, concealer, bronzer, etc. All THAT effort.
However, I got curious. I thought, what if it wasn’t that hard? What if I was just being this lazy woman? What if I have just been letting myself go? Frankly, I did envy the nice eyebrows and pretty fluttering lashes.
Hence, I attempted to just brush up on my make-up skills using Wunderbrow and putting on fake lashes.
What else could happen? Well, a struggle. Unnecessary struggle.
Well, first, I bought the Wunderbrow and attempted to use on myself.
I have always wanted to have my eyebrows threaded professionally. I knew how to thread. I did it on myself while I was still in the Philippines and in my twenties. Everyone was tweezing their brows but I heard threading was better. However, professional threading is on a different level.
What stopped me from actually going through threading is that, when a friend had it done, she arrived home with swollen eyelids. Now the thought of going home looking like she did put me off threading.
So I did some research A.K.A. YouTubing. I watched several videos.
Wunderbrow was pretty straightforward. The only catch was that I already have thick brows. Plus, I have black hair. I bought the dark brown shade but it still made my brows look thicker and heavier. Anyway, I had to redo my brows with a lighter approach and it worked. Sorta. Well, I think it did.
(I just need to put a disclaimer here for the pics you are about to view. I will not be responsible for decisions you deem bad during and after scrolling down.)
The worst part had to be the fake lashes. Again, I had to do some research with regards to the glue. Apparently, lash glue can be made with some latex component to it.
I have a sensitivity to latex. My skin would break out into itchy rashes. I don’t want that situation on my eyelids.
I found Revlon latex-free lash glue. I’m not quite sure what it’s made of as I already binned the box.
Long story short, just look at the results. It was not too futile as it made me aware what I could do if I put in some elbow grease in pretending I really care about whether men think I’m hot or not.
Otherwise, this is me.