If I had a dollar for every time I’ve been told I couldn’t make it as a beauty writer by an editor, I’d have about… three dollars.
Which is three dollars too many, because it means three times in the last six months I’ve had furrowed brows, confused eyes and the occasional head shake as I explain to my particularly
unsupportive colleagues that NO I don’t really know how to moisturise, yes perhaps my foundation is a shade too dark and oh, um, can I skip the whole primer thing?
Apparently no – a stupidly excessive call, but I digress – and so I’m hit with the inevitable: “You could never be a beauty writer.”
And here we are, jokes on them, and probably you, because today I’m writing about beauty. What a time to be alive. Assuming we all make it through.
You see, I got tattoos on my eyebrows, because I had hardly any eyebrows. In an era when eyebrows became the new lips, eyes and nose, I kind of accidentally got left behind. Sure, I owned an eyebrow pencil, but if I’m honest, I gave very few sh*ts about two strips of hair lining my eyes and was far more invested in the fact that at 23, I still didn’t know how to match my foundation to my face. And change a tyre, but that’s for another time.
So I visited the lovely Yasmin of The Arch Stylist in Prahran in Melbourne, got a few needles in my forehead and walked out with some definitive eyebrows.
Here’s everything you need to know.
For further proof I wasn’t lying, and am also really awkward and annoying when it comes to taking photos of myself, here’s my before photo: