Eyelash extensions are the answer to all my problems. No more buying tubes of mascara every second month like they say you’re supposed to, or risk eye infections or worse, spider clumps. No more dealing with tiny black flecks on my face through the day, no more raccoon shadow left from make-up remover that left me with dark circles and broken promises.
No more dealing with glue-on falsies that would migrate slowly towards my eyebrows — which spells more failed showgirl and less Hollywood glamour.
There is something very humbling about having your eyelash extensions fall off, one at a time. In protective mode, I mourn the falling of each perfect ‘C’ lash that I’d find on a silken pillowcase or my cheek, like an insipid man beginning to lose his hair. I understand how people get addicted to this. Even under the salon lighting, with barely any makeup on, I feel like a pretty Snapchat filter version of myself. I am a doe-eyed Disney princess. I am an animatronic lady bunny. I should be competing in a pageant that requires spray to keep my skirts from riding up.
My make-up routine, that usually consists 15 desperate swipes of mascara and concealer, is now just lip balm and BB cream. I want to spend my afternoons batting my lashes at strangers till they ask me out and pose in three-quarter turns. I am a little glamour kitten. I should be draped in pearls and perfumes that’s applied with a little atomiser.
Just like that, I knew the devil was nearby. Anything beautiful had to be too good to be true, right? It has been addictive to the point where I see my lash specialist more often than I’d see my friends. I started running from pillar to post, asking questions like, “So what now? Do we do this forever?” Sigh, I suppose I get them redone when I can afford it. Other times, I come to my senses and remember that my ``` needs to be spent on rent instead.
My new lid wigs made me hyper-aware of how un-glamorous my real lashes are. It’s so easy to forget what they actually look like, and seeing them without extensions for the first time in months was a little bit shocking — even if nothing was wrong with them. While the eyelash dysmorphia was a little unavoidable for me, understanding and going to the right place remedied most of the damage before it happened. When applied properly, lash health shouldn’t be cause of any Eyelash concern. Extensions are not something a person should have done on a whim in the back of a nail salon — definitely do your research, get referrals and go to a professional. As I write this, I scramble to make one last refill appointment before I head back to the land of carbs — Italy!