You may recall that a while back, I was the victim of a horrific crime against brow-manity.
You can read all about it here, but in case you find that too traumatizing, here’s the cole’s notes version: some b*tch named Tina at The World’s Worst Salon waxed half my eyebrows off and burned me like a blank CD.
Not that I’m bitter or anything.
Anyhoo, it’s been nearly four months since that fateful day, and with the help of
countless dollars’ worth of miracle growth products a little patience, regular exfoliating and nightly prayers to Saint Jude, the Patron Saint of Lost Causes, my eyebrows are FINALLY starting to grow back.
The only problem is, now that I’ve been burned once before (quite literally), I’m a bit gun-shy. I’ve been scared sh*tless to let anyone else touch my brows lest I suffer the same fate.
And let me tell you- four months of regrowth ain’t pretty. My brows began to slowly take over my face like misshapen, wayward caterpillars.
When she heard my harrowing tale of woe, a friend recommended that I check out the Brow House in Yorkville, a salon dedicated exclusively to eyebrow maintenance in Toronto’s most chi-chi neighbourhood.
“They put me on a ‘brow plan’,” she told me “I love my eyebrows now”.
A brow plan? Well if that isn’t exactly the type of ridiculous, first world sh*t I live for, then I don’t know what is. Sign me up!
I booked a “consultation” on Saturday afternoon, right between my hair and nail appointments (the struggle is real), and spent the rest of the week with visions of full brows dancing in my head.
The salon is tucked-away in a brownstone walk-up on a quiet Yorkville street. Inside, it is is minimalist and chic: all white with a few, well-spaced red salon chairs, mirrors, and a coffee table stacked with aspirational lifestyle magazines.
I was introduced to my “brow artist”, Natalia.
“How can I help you today?” she asked.
I proceeded to recount my traumatic experience. “That is horrifying” she said, taking my hand and looking in my eyes seriously. “I am so sorry you have gone through that. You have come to the right place. ”
She proceeded to explain that, despite their current Anthony Davis status, my brows were actually in OK shape. She drew a line on my face to show me where my brows should be, and said that for the most part, they were growing back nicely. After a couple more months, my arches would be good as new.
As she waxed away the stray hairs, she told me about the Brow House philosophy. “We take a lot of factors into consideration when providing a brow recommendation,” she explained, “your hair texture, color, face shape. If you have a round face, you will need longer, more arched brows to balance it out. For a longer face, we recommend flat brows with a low arch”.
I nodded enthusiastically, amazed by this brave new world of brow theory.
Like me, the ladies at the Brow House are firm believers in the “full brow lifestyle”.
“Have you ever considered getting a tint?” she asked. “That way you won’t have to fill them in every day?”
I was skeptical. What if I looked like one of those old ladies who colored in her eyebrows with a Maybeline eyeliner?
“No no, it will be subtle” she promised. Reluctantly, I consented, and held my breath as she coloured in my brows with a miniscule paint pot.
The result was, just as she had promised, natural and awesome.
“I feel like a whole new person!” I squealed, taking in my (arguably incrementally) changed appearance in the mirror.
I paid my bill (yikes) and booked another appointment in four weeks. Hook, line and sinker.
The price of beauty apparently knows no bounds, but god damn if I just bought me some good lookin’ brows.