Best in Brow

 

No going back; the end, forever hold your peace. 

The word permanent itself had such striking connotations.

As a child of the 80’s I had more than a vivid memory of permanent makeup hitting the scene, touting the answer to never having to put on your face again (and really, who wasn’t so exhausted by a little liner and primer?).  Permanent makeup promised forever on a luscious pout, sultry eyes and an indefinitely interested brow.  The reality however was more reminiscent of savage sharpie pen in the wrong hands:  brows gone awry and lip liner that felt more drag queen than demure.  So you can imagine the shock and awe on my mother’s face upon hearing my requested Christmas present, gift wrap and ribbon not required. “I want my eyebrows tattooed”.  

Like so many before me, I easily fell prey to the late 90’s trend of pin-thin brows whilst locked away in my boarding school dorm, Dashboard Confessional blaring on the BoomBox (angsty support required.)  It was winter in Northern Michigan, and thinner brows fed some need to feel anti, cool and dare I say, edgy.  Three words that have never been too closely tied to my own personal depiction.  But tweezers in hand, I spent a full hour prodding, pulling, squinting and posing.  Pruned and poked, I emerged more like a hairless cat than a doppleganger for Kate Moss.  Brows be gone, I’d definitely conquered something (?) but more than anything I can say I was #blessed we didn’t yet have Instagram.

Cut to nearly 15 years later when the Cara’s and the Karlie’s of the world made brows beguiling again.  Glossier told us to celebrate our ‘sprouts’ and the Streicher Sisters coined the enviable feathered brow that seemed to be dominating every glossy on newsstands.  What was this magic voodoo that promised natural-looking plumage and the answer to our #iwokeuplikethis selfie goals?  It wasn’t just excess latisse on your brow comb at night.  This was Microblading. Hair Strokes, Feathering… all chicer names under the guise of a very real thing:  The Eyebrow Tattoo.

Creagh Ekelund, permanent makeup queen, and I met for my consult with a bevy of inspa at my fingertips.  I wanted to look nonchalantly low-maintenance (lie) but polished…while simultaneously filling in the scar on my right brow I’d had since age three, thanks to a poorly timed swing-set dismount.  Creagh filled in, up and all around my brows to give me an idea (albeit heavy handed) as to what I could expect to achieve with the single needle machine work.  I wore the brow audition for a day or so to weigh the gravity of the decision, (pigment can sometimes last up to five years) and 24 hours later I was back in her serene office, numbing cream on my forehead, ready to roll.  As sensation left my brow region, we chatted for about half an hour, again discussing my very real #browgoals.  The single needle machine, as Creagh put it, offered a more coherent look versus the standard Micro-blading that was blowing up everywhere, with a bit more longevity in color retention  A myriad of factors would effect my result:  diligent after care, oily vs dry skin, retinol use… you name it.  She started with one brow, slowly and meticulously creating the ‘hair-strokes’ necessary to give the illusion of my natural Delevingne-ness.  Four hours later I emerged with two glorious, oily caterpillars on top of my forehead, protectant gel for showering and an specific moisturizer for healing after days 10 and beyond.

The initial shock is very real, mes amis, and you just might feel a sudden urge to audition as an extra on Orange is the New Black.  Had I known the first days are more horror than highbrow, I perhaps would’ve scheduled my visit a little further from Christmas holiday obligations. Brows are at first incredibly dark, and you are in no way prepared for such a sudden transformation.  Excess pigment is stuck in your actual brow hairs as well, and washing before day 3 is strictly forbidden, so you’re a bit of a lagoon creature for a moment.  Barrier cream is to be worn at all cost when showering, sweating or simply being humid… the brows have to heal on their own, and you can’t help them shed their top layers even though the temptation is -literally- staring you in the face.  So days 1-4 is jail escapee, panic and honest to God remorse.  (Creagh says each client goes through this, totes normal, wine helps).  

Days 5-9 left me with odd scabbing and flakiness, although I could finally wash with anti-bacterial soap in the evenings, before applying the appropriate moisturizer. 

Days 10 and beyond, I fell in love.  Brows softened, shock subsided.  The effect was seductive and I blissfully downed the micro needling kool-aid.  I wore less makeup, and as one friend put it, my entire face seemed to change in the best way.  Knowing they would continue to assimilate into my visage gave me permission to relax, and I held tight to the fact that in only eight weeks I’d have a touch up appointment to navigate their full healing and next steps, should any corrective measures need to be taken.

My follow-up a few months later was simple and much less exhaustive.  We filled in a few ‘wimpy’ hairstrokes that Creagh predicted would need attention, and gave a slight color bump to my tail.  Same after-care applied, but I was in no way channeling 90’s convicts this time.  My brows were lush, sophisticated and exactly what’d I dreamed of.  I could still play brow party with my favorite Glossier Boy Brow, or keep them soft and and easy for a lazy Sunday morning brunch.  Pain was minimal, downtime limited, and friends who aren’t in the know haven’t a clue what I’ve done.  The verdict?  “You look fabulous!” seems to be delightfully on repeat.  

Cost | $450 - $1000

 
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