My brows have a blunt way of reminding me of my self-neglect by simply growing. It didn’t matter what direction they pointed to – just that they grew. And grew. To the point where I didn’t recognize myself when I stared at the mirror, when I could afford more than a quick glance at my reflection during a day-in-the-life routine.
I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here, but I’m a spitting image of my dad. One look is all that’s needed to know where most of my looks came from (at least, when my eyes are open. Mamang says I look like her late mother when I sleep). Being able to recognize myself in the mirror is kind of a must for me – it’s a way to recognize that I’m still here, that I exist, that I’m real. Being able to see myself, as strange and vain as it may come off as, gives me some modicum of peace. People don’t realize how easy it is to be forgotten, despite what rom-coms and romanticism would lead their audience(s) to believe. So when I finally slowed down to really examine my features, I finally paid attention to my brows.
For as long as I could remember, I never paid much attention to the shape of my brows. I ignored the trend of brow shaping until senior year in high school, when having a distinctly sculpted brow set was becoming the rage. I resorted dermaplaning / shaving my brows after giving threading a try
and having my eyelids (and sometimes eyeball) constantly get caught in the threading process.
Adding to my list of reasons for shaving my brows were the facts that my eyebrow hairs grew faster than the standard 2 weeks and people who threaded my brows made it clear to me that they were going to get arthritis from working on my brows alone. So, naturally the only resolution I had to deal with my wonky brows was to shave and shape them myself.
Here’s the thing with shaving: you DO NOT want to shave with dry skin. And in all the times that I’ve seen shaving done, it was always with a shaving cream. So, off to the store I went to look for shaving cream and got a headfirst smack of gender inequality when I went to the women’s shaving cream section and found out how much they were charging for one can.
Meanwhile, on a random trip to Dollar Tree, I was just wandering through the aisles to see what was on the shelves and lo and behold, I find a travel size can of Barbasol for $1.00. I could swear you could hear the gears in my mind slowly grind to a halt. A travel size can of (designated) men’s shaving cream was available for $1.00 with no frills, but I go to Walmart to get a can of women’s shaving cream and I have to pay 2-3 times more.
I still have that can of shaving cream. And no, it isn’t expired. Mind you, I get lip and chin hair and that same can of Barbasol makes removing them a breeze. It’s ridiculous that I am expected to pay more on the basis of having boobies and a vagina.