A Realistic Tale of Waxing

Let’s be real. Every girl feels better about herself the day after an eyebrow wax. Nothing compares. Except possibly a less vain experience. But I digress.

Men, if you’ve never experienced a brow wax, you will never understand the agony. And you will never be able to prove whether or not I am exaggerating the agony.

 

If you weren’t born in Dallas or LA, sometimes you put off this necessary evil for a little too long. That first visit back is the opposite of the prodigal son’s welcomed return: the waxing stings again. The slight pain usually inspires many thoughts and questions to roll around in my head, but I never say them aloud.

Here’s an insight into what the situation would sound like if I conversed with my evidently sassy esthetician – both of us without a filter – during an eyebrow wax. My words are bold. And they’re bolded.

 

Pre-Wax:

“So what are you thinking shape-wise?”

“Well I’d love an hour-glass figure without having to sacrifice taste.”

“I meant your eyebrows.”

“Oh right. Can you make me Lucy Hale?”

“No.”

“Emma Watson?”

“No.

“Miranda Kerr?”

“No. What I can offer you is blotchy redness for the rest of the day and probably a little tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll take it.”

 

“I’ve always wondered: do most people close their eyes throughout the process? I kind of feel like a sociopath when I chat and smile with my eyes closed but, like, I don’t want my eyelashes burned off.”

“That’s really up to you.”

“But will I be your only client to open my eyes?”

“You will be my only client to overanalyze such a bizarre concern as this.”

 

During Wax:

“Why do you need to tweeze my raw skin after the waxing part is over? If piping hot wax won’t remove all the hair, why am I even putting myself through this?”

“Beauty is pain. Don’t blame me, blame genetics.”

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take that.”

“I think you are sure.”

 

“You know, getting my lip waxed carries its own sets of problems.”

“How so?”

“Well for instance, answering your question of ‘how so’ would be like trying to hold a conversation with the dentist while he’s literally all up in my grill – there’s just no way.”

“You initiated this irrelevant dialogue.”

“Touché.”

 

“Why is your stomach growling so aggressively?”

“I’m sorry it was National Junk Food Day so all I had for lunch was a free donut.”

“I respected you right up until you told me that.”

“Would you have preferred that I lie?”

“Yes. I would have preferred that you lie.”

 

 

Post-Wax:

“Here’s a mirror. Check your brows.”

“Oh, dear God. Why did anyone let me leave the house this morning? The bags under my eyes even have bags. It’s like my whole face is going on vacation.”

“You’re looking everywhere but your brows. Also, that attempt at a pun was pitiful.”

“Give me a break I haven’t gotten much sleep lately.”

“Yes I’m aware I can tell by your eyes.”

 

“Are you going anywhere after this?”

“I considered just going home, but I remembered a few errands I need to run.”

“I suggest you just go home.”

“Are my eyebrows that red…?”

“No, but you’re wearing mismatched shoes.”

 

 

As easy and harmless as eyebrow waxes are, I nonetheless stroll out of the salon radiating self-assurance, thinking to myself (and occasionally out loud) “My pain tolerance is practically supernatural. My brows are the equivalent of Kate Middleton’s wardrobe. Come at me, haters. I. Am. Woman.”

 

 

One thought on “A Realistic Tale of Waxing

  1. LOL! Loved this! 🙂 Could you also check out my blog, and follow it if you like it? Thank you, and I love your blog by the way, and will check in to see new post! 🙂

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