(Dorothy Perkins dress; Vivienne Westwood /Melissa Lady Dragon heart shoes, c/o Sarenza)
Unlike me, Rubin isn’t a big fan of the heat. Which I guess is understandable, given that “personal style” for him involves wearing the same, white fur coat every day. This is why dogs don’t have style blogs.
Luckily for him, however, Saturday afternoon was sunny and warm, but with enough of a breeze to keep him cool when we stopped off for a quick walk en route to my parents’ place, for a barbecue. I was a bit less lucky, mind you: that wind was NOT kind to my dress. Let’s just say there were more than a couple of “Marilyn Monroe moments”, although without the elegance. Yes.
It was during the barbecue later that night that my dad used the phrase “as happy as a dog with two tails”, and while I honestly think that if I WAS a dog with two tails, I’d probably be just a little bit freaked out by it (I mean, two! Tails! OMG!), it does pretty much sum up me in the sunshine. And it sums up Rubin in the … it just sums up Rubin.
(He got a haircut the next day. He was really happy only to have the one tail when that happened…)
(Yes, that’s a giant twig attached to his fur. This happens without fail, every time he steps outside the door…)
But enough about dogs and tails: you just want to hear about my eyebrows after my HD Brows treatment, don’t you?
Well, the short story is that the HD Brows treatment went exactly how you all thought it would go, and exactly how I thought it would go, too, given my chequered history with dyeing hair. In fact, so certain was I that it would be an unmitigated disaster that I actually came pretty close to just cancelling the appointment. But I left it too late, so yesterday afternoon the condemned woman ate a hearty lunch, and then she drove herself to the salon with a heavy heart.
My fears were alleviated slightly when I met my brow tech, who had red, hair just a couple of shades lighter than mine, and the most perfectly tinted brows imaginable. Surely, I thought, my eyebrows would be safe in the hands of a fellow redhead? Surely she, of all people, would understand the unique set of problems connected to having vampire skin and translucent facial hair? “I’ll have two of those, please!” I said, gesturing to her perfect brows, and then I settled back and prepared to be transformed.
And then, a short while later, I sat up, took the hand mirror I was offered, and gazed into a pair of mascara-pooled eyes (I cry when I have threading done. I can’t seem to stop myself), perfectly framed by the blackest brows you ever did see. GAH.
Well, I drove home, and went immediately to the bathroom, where I grabbed the bottle of Head & Shoulders I bought last time I had a hair dyeing disaster, and tried to use it to strip out some of the colour. (If you’ve never tried shampooing your eyebrows, by the way, all I can say is that you don’t know what you’re missing. And honestly, you don’t WANT to know…) Afterwards, I thought it looked OK. In fact, I even Tweeted that it was OK. And then later? I realised that it was very much NOT OK, NOT AT ALL, OMFG.
Looking on the bright side:
1) Terry says it’s not nearly as dark as I think it is.
2) The salon told me the colour would fade within a couple of days, and I’ve certainly found that to be true in the past when I’ve, you know, dyed my eyebrows black with eyelash dye. Sorry, I mean, when my friend has done that. Because I have never done that, no, not me. What do you think I am, stupid?
3) I almost always wear gigantic, eyebrow-covering sunglasses when I’m out in public (see above photos for evidence of this. And all my other outdoor photos, actually.). I always knew this would come in handy one day. And OK, I’m pretty sure that when I stopped to put fuel in my car on the way home from my appointment, the cashier thought I was about to rob the place when I didn’t remove my sunglasses, but hey, wearing sunglasses indoors will…give me an air of mystery? Which is… good? I guess?
4) The shape of the brows is GREAT. Which is honestly nothing short of a miracle, especially when you consider that my eyebrows actually get their own hate mail sometimes. According to the salon I went to, they were:
- REALLY COARSE
- Two completely different shapes
- Did I mention “coarse”?
After all of this, though, the beautician told me that they weren’t the worst eyebrows she’d seen. And the unspoken words “but they’re pretty damn close” hovered in the air, unspoken…
They look a little better this morning. And today? Today I’m having my hair cut. Wish me luck…