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. 



Inside the Box

Quick confession: I am a bag lady. I walk into work every day with at LEAST 3 bags on my arm. Each morning I tip to one side, succumbing to the weight on my right arm, forcing me into an unintentional pimp walk.

Although the overall tone in my upper arms has vastly improved, I'm exhausted of divvying up my life into tote bags, cross-bodies, and whatever else I can fit my life into. Enter the Box Bag. 

Vogue made it official in the August 2015 issue, and I've finally committed to my new, smaller yet more efficient partner. And yes, I know that's what she said. You can go back to 2008 now. 

I found my new go-to at The Peacock Room in Detroit. Vintage from the 1950s, I fell in love with its upholstered style in a fall/winter palette. The ease of carrying this shape and size had me throwing my carry-on sized tote in storage faster than Galliano was dismissed from Dior. 

In an attempt to simplify my life, I've simplified my bag down to the necessities : wallet, chapstick, mirror, and a KIND bar (I am never not down for a snack). I of course still take a tote as well to my job for my papers, agenda, lunch, etc. Girl's gotta work! 

The argument for the box bag is simple: most of us don't need all the junk that's in our bags. Find your must-haves for on-the-go, and throw them inside the box. You and I both know we don't need those 2-day-old water bottles and ten shades of Nars Velvet Lip Pencils. 

Take a peek at a few gorgeous options below, and feel the weight lift from your shoulders- literally. Have you ever lifted a woman's purse? We could put CrossFit out of business with our bags (Did I just create my Shark Tank idea?).

Marc Jacobs Leopard Box Crossbody- Nordstrom

Asos Structured Box Shoulder Bag- Asos

Vintage (like mine!) Black Velvet Box Bag- Etsy



Photography by Lauren Montgomery