Ok, I have eyebrow envy, I admit it. I’m not proud of this but the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have it, right?
I am envious of all your lovely, sculpted, perfectly-arched eyebrows.
They demand attention, they draw you in, they scream “here I am, I’m lovely, look at my eyes, look at me!” They are the frosting on your every facial expression, niftly rising up and down, as if emphatically agreeing with your smile, your snark, your shock.
My eyebrows are lame, by comparison. After all, my fair British pathetic skin and reddish locks don’t lend themselves well to definition. Yes, I try. I really do. I’ve plucked, waxed with the best of them. But really to no avail. There my brows sit. Limply there above my eyes. Commanding zero attention other than, perhaps, glances of sympathy from the beautifully-browed people.
Let’s consider some examples of the finest brows out there. Ashley Judd’s have always been a favorite. Beyonce’s are always lovely. Rachel Weisz and Angelina’s rock. Jennifer Anniston. Of course. The list goes on and on. Several of my colleagues, both former and present (you know who you are) are also blessed with beautiful brows.
I am surrounded by people whose eyebrows outbrow mine.
Again, I’m sorry about my eyebrows. You may now look away.