Boy Brow: The Review

Have you ever noticed in shampoo commercials, how the girl whose life has been "changed" by said shampoo, ALREADY has great hair? Or in makeup ads, the model coincidentally already has perfect skin? Or even in cruise ship commercials. It's always a slender, good looking family. Never who you really see, which is usually some kid eating his boogers, hogging the ice cream machine while mom is checking-in on Facebook (LUV THE SUN!!-Karen). 

My point is, we have constantly been mislead by marketing messages for "miracle products", so as consumers, we are understandably jaded. That's why I was skeptical when Glossier's Boy Brow was first launched. Of course it was a great product, but probably only for girls who already have great brows, right? 

I've been an avid follower of Into The Gloss and Glossier products for a while now. Having been burned by multiple pencils, waxes and tints, I didn't jump on the bandwagon right away. My wounds were still fresh. Dark pencil still lingered under my fingernails for God's sake. 

After a few weeks of soul/brow searching, I finally caved and ordered a tube. I knew when it hit my mailbox because I could hear the faint sound of angels singing outside my front door. They knew the miracle, the resurrection, that was about to take place. 

From the first swipe, I could tell Boy Brow was the real deal. The gel-like formula  somehow picked up every little brow hair to form a fuller, more natural shape- even on my scarce brows. Not sticky, stiff, or harsh, just perfectly messy and effortless. I knew I had been saved. 

Unlike pencils, it's almost impossible to mess up the application of Boy Brow. The tapered brush is a dream for precision. A few small, short, upward strokes and E! might even give you your own TV show (I'm assuming that's the way the Kardashians got one. Great brows=good* TV). 


THE GOOD NEWS: This is the holy grail of brow product, and since Glossier gave me the gift of getting my brows back, I'm giving you a gift! Use this link for 20% off your first order. 

THE BAD NEWS: If your shade is brown, like mine, or black, IT'S SOLD OUT RIGHT NOW. You'll have to sign up for an alert for when it's back in stock, which is said to be next month. Blondies, go fourth.  


So here we are: My brow history has been told. Pictures that can't be unseen, have been shared. And in the end, Boy Brow is the equivalent of the White Horse, and I am riding off into the sunset with my bad @$$ brows. 

*good is an over-statement and completely subjective. 


A Tale of Two Eyebrows: My Journey to Brow Peace.

We all go through stages in life. Puberty, first relationships, bad haircuts-the stuff they warn us about. However, in my 24 years of life, no one ever warned me about the emotional turmoil that comes with having eyebrows. 

I had good eyebrows. They were thick and untamed and unruly, and in sixth grade, that was unacceptable. So I let my friends pluck them all off at a sleepover into thin, perfect lines. I felt chic! I felt cool! WHAT A FOOL I WAS. My girlfriends told me they would grow back anyway. Then probably something about an Abercrombie sale ($5 off jeans!? MOM!!!) Spoiler alert: they did not grow back. Not even close.  

When big, dark brows came back into style, I became obsessed. I wanted those thick, gorgeous, Audrey Hepburn, Lily Collins brows so badly. This is now what I refer to as "Dark Times". 

It started out innocently enough, a little pencil on my sixth-grade mistakes here and there. But it wasn't enough. I started filling them in darker and darker. And you wanna know what? I.Loved.It. I felt sexy, fashionable, and on-trend with my new Groucho Marx brows. I filled them in with pride and basked in their perfect shape. This was my time, baby. 

"What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas" does NOT apply to eyebrows. They should really put that on their signage.


However, it all soon started to crumble. It began with a friend of mine, breaking the truth to me. That my brows were just too dark and too big and they were too much for my face. I was 100% in denial. I cried my eyes out. I could not accept what my girlfriend had said, and I could feel that naive, 12-year-old girl that was dying to fit in, oozing out of me. 

I still continued filling in my brows, a little less, but I made up for it in shape. BOOYY DID I MAKE UP FOR IT. My lines were so sharp they could kill a man. I was FLEEK AF. In my state of brow-bliss, I went to to see my enabler (my eyebrow girl), who had originally tinted my brows and who I can probably credit with the beginning of this madness. 

When I went to make an appointment, I was informed that my then brow-guru had left the state (probably to enter the witness brow-tection program. Puns make it hurt less). I felt lost and alone. Who would define and defend my eyebrows now?

Enter Sonya- Father, Son and Holy Spirit of eyebrows. On our very first appointment, she let me down easy like a good therapist. My perfectly drawn, carefully crafted eyebrows were stealing the spotlight from every other feature I have. We never tinted them again, used brow wax matching my natural shade, and only filled in the scarce spots. I felt more natural, but more fashionable than ever. 

Moments after my brow-rescue with Sonya. Next LinkedIn photo for SURE.  

I'm not mad at myself. Not even embarrassed. We all go through beauty blunders- all that matters is if it makes you happy at the time. No one can tell you how you should look. I needed to go through my brow-tastrophe. Not even my closest friend could tell me what's up (BROWS, GET IT?!), I needed to figure it out for myself. 

In my next post, I'll let you guys in on what I think- no, know, is the holy grail of brow product. Even for girls that "don't need brow product" (we can't be friends). For now, learn from my story, tell it to your children. Preferably before they go to sleepovers.