I always had a unibrow. My junior high year book photo was an terrifying snapshot of horror. I had a nasty unibrow and the makings of a faint mustache. All my junior high school friends that were boys were envious.
I can’t find a photo.
But here’s a photo of Madonna’s daughter Lourdes.
I pretty much looked like this:
When I was about 12 I remember going to Target with my mom. Going to Target with my mom was always an exciting time filled with much elation, because my mom shopped at Target like it was her job. As soon as we’d walk in the door, she shove her cart directly over to the snack corner, and buy a popcorn and Pepsi. Because you need your energy to shop all 42 isles of Target, she’d say. I’d get a blue icee and we’d both snack on popcorn and cheers our sugary drinks together. I’d awkwardly hint at needing a box of Always with dry-weave overnight maximum absorbency for heavy flow pads while she would be comparing prices on generic shampoo.
I remember I had just started shaving my legs, and we went down the razor isle. I saw a pink bottle of Nair that promised to remove hair without pain or using a razor. I immediately thought that I would use it on my face to get rid of my mustache and unibrow. I begged my mom to buy it, and she did, under one condition: that I would only use it on my legs.
Later that day, I ran up to my bathroom and slapped that stuff all over my face. I dotted it above my lip, around my eyebrows, inside my nose. I even noticed a rouge chin hair, so I slapped it over there too. No stone unturned.
I waited the allotted time.
I reorganized the bathroom cabinets.
Because idle hands are the devil’s playground.
Plus this was before the advent of iPhones and I forgot to bring my copy of Seventeen Magazine into the bathroom. There was no way that I would be stepping foot outside of the bathroom until all my Nair was cleaned off. I couldn’t let my mom know that I was Naring my face.
Time was up, I washed my face.
The cool water felt nice…because my face WAS ON FIRE!
Oh it burned so bad. I figured it was just part of the process, a little burning is a small price to pay for velvety smooth, hair-free skin.
Apparently the burning did not come standard. That special sensation was reserved just for me (it probably had something to do with the fact that I used it on my face, but it was formulated for legs). I dried off my face and looked in the mirror and saw that I was red, blotchy and blistering!! EVERYWHERE.
My mustache area was a red mess.
Around my eyebrows there were blisters, and it looked like I had a red sole patch on my chin.
My mom knocked on the door and asked why I was in there so long.
“Ugh…I’m pooping!” I lied.
“Okay, well you need to come down for dinner.”
I grabbed a bottle of Maybelline foundation and doused my face in it, I tried to rub it in, but no matter how hard I tried, the blisters and redness would not budge.
I patted my face down with powder.
I looked like an idiot. I had a cakey face full of make up and pink blisters everywhere. Oh, and did I mention the puss that started to erupt?
Yea, there was puss too. Oozing from my face.
I went downstairs.
My mom saw me, and exclaimed, “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?!”
I shrugged my shoulders and bit my lip.
I’m pretty sure my mom realized that I used the Nair on my face. She’s one smart cookie. But she never asked me anymore questions about it.
And that was fine. Because I punished myself enough.
After that incident, I went on to wax, bleach, shave, and pluck my facial hair.
But because I have incredibly sensitive skin, and prone to red blotches and blisters, I’ve realized that I can only pluck. Which means, everyday I’m in the mirror plucking my face (yay).
But I’m over it. I don’t want to do it anymore.
So I’m putting down my tweezers and I’m going to bring the uni back.
Well me and this guy from Top Chef Masters: