I Didn’t Do My Eyebrows For Five Months And This Is What I Learned

Being in my 30s hasn't been as horrific as they make them out to be. (By "they", I mean a bunch of us as late twenty-year olds talking about the dreaded thirties.) It's been eye-opening, to say the least.

For one, they made me realize that my hair genes have clearly come from the wrong side of the family - my dad's. When I was in my teens, every other person came up to me and told me how much they envy my curly, glossy mane. In return, I usually just gave them a quizzical expression and said, " Well, it's just there, thanks to my beautiful mother."It's true. I didn't really do anything for my curls back then. I shampooed them once a week, rubbed some coconut oil into my strands carelessly, tied them into a braid before going to school and that was my only interaction with them. I left them wild and loose on Sundays.

My hair now has lost most of its sheen, its voluminous locks. I'm struggling to make best of this aspect of my appearance. I have tried nearly ever trick in the book, sang hair elegies that start with "O curly locks, whither thou goest...", bathed them in gentle sunlight and water, doused them in wonder oils from around the world, even rubbed garlic on my hair.( For nearly two days after which, every time I entered a room, everyone went, "Hmm, who got hummus?")

Image Source:Wikipedia

Of course, as my obsession increased, so did my hair fall. So I decided to tune off from it for some time. Instead, I took unending, unadulterated, liberating joy in not doing my eyebrows. Slow hair growth meant my eyebrows took all the time in the world to grow back into unkempt, Kahlo-ish, power-brows —  which I'd give anything to sport now.

But if you had seen me in my over-tweezed, fine strokes of brown arches before, you would know that not doing my eyebrows was a revolutionary step! There was a time in my work-life when I tweezed my eyebrows on a weekly/fortnightly basis. It reached a point of insanity when I took brow matters into my own hands and accidentally shaved a healthy chunk of it, only to be filled in with artistic pencil strokes and drops of castor oil for nearly two months after.

Why did I tweeze them to oblivion back then? Was I a brow-maniac? Why did I not feel tempted to tweeze out my husband's unibrow in his sleep then?( God knows I've thought about it.) I am not sure if it had to do with the beauty revolution around barely-there eyebrows in the early 2000s or if it was something someone said and I'm sure it pretty much rounds up to an eyebrow-repressed childhood that led to such aberrant behavior.

Faint Brows From Early 2000s

You'd think why do you have to be in on my inconsequential brow journey and how's that saving the world anyway? It may not change the world ( then there is Decembrow) but it did change me.

Monumentally. I haven't put my eyebrows anywhere near a tweezer/scissor for five months now. I also visited a salon and sat next to a girl with perfectly-groomed, lush eyebrows being quizzed by a cocky, fancy-pants "art stylist" with a sorry expression, "Tell me darling. On a scale of 1-10, how happy are you about your brows?" Right before he gave her a ten-minute sales talk on how he can get them to be like Carla Delevingne's in under five minutes. He took a pregnant pause - also to give me a quick, unapologetically brutal, side glance that sent chills down my spine. I sat there not knowing what to say with my blotchy, assymmetrical eyebrows but feeling like a million dollars nevertheless as my head went through a slow, glorious massage.

There are many labels that a woman's unkempt eyebrow carries in society - laziness, tomboyishness, long marriage, lack of hygiene, motherhood, workaholism, abnegation, homosexuality and the buzzword of late, feminism. Now I don't know which one of them I'd have you subscribed to in my case. I would like to call it an act of feminism, not one that would necessarily change lives of repressed women or social norms. Back then, I stared obscenely at brows of all shapes and sizes - in class, in ladies rooms, at weddings and passed them through the same judgmental magnifying glass that the art stylist passed mine. Now, I can't help wondering why I made that half-hour trip to the salon, waited in lines for the right stylist, obsessively looked into their pocket mirror till my brows were lean-mean identical twins.

And while we're on the subject of body hair, I also wonder why,  we went through the torture chambers of waxing booths, sitting for nearly two hours letting out muffled ouchies; before we could let ourselves experience the joy of butterflies in our stomachs in anticipation for a big date.

All of which adds up to this. In my twenties, I looked at my face in little parts and segregations. I obsessed about perfecting each one of them. I looked at myself from every angle, not much as a whole. In my thirties, I'm learning to see myself straight in the eye. I'm learning to look into my eyes and find happiness, regrets, guilt, compassion, all the works and triggers of the left-brain beneath.

I'm learning to look at myself and question the point of my vanity-insanity.

So, attacking each of my obsessions moving from my head down, these bushy maidens have risen from my pre-teen era to be the wild biatches they were meant to be, looking a tad too intimadating when turned into a scowl, looking feverishly alive when turned up in a smile.

Whatever meaning these sneaky lines of varying widths may have carried for women through the years, for me, the way they are now, ungroomed and untamed, they represent a precursor to another age, another obsession, another version of me perhaps.

The Line of Beauty - In Between Waking Up and Stepping Out The Door

Half Make-up Face

I've reached a point in my life where looking at the mirror is just Step 1 of doctoring my best artificial self that make-up can buy. I can't really trace the beginning of it but it's sort of ebbing its way slowly into everything that I can touch my hands upon. Like this morning, as I was getting my daughter Saanvi ready for school, I noticed a prominent red rash on her left cheek. It itched my senses to see my little girl, with her flawless child-like vibrance, to be sporting something as nasty as a huge blotch on her cheek. But the first visual that crossed my mind wasn't really a Sherlock-like mental timeline to backtrack to its source (as with most mommies), but visual flashcards of tools in my make-up kit that'd come in handy to conceal it. I stood there debating if it's too early to dab some wholesome foundation on her pink cheek and then it struck me.

I have turned into a make-up junkie...an f-ing Kardashian so to speak. (Ahem, minus the fan following ofcourse.)

I guess it must've started in college. You see, I have pale complexion and sad eyes. I needed a better college face. In my quest for the perfect outer-world face, over the years, I have devised a morning routine that'll get me through the day without hearing the words, "Oh, are you not well?" "Are you depressed? Your eyes... they're doing that thing." or "OMG, did a cat scratch your head?" This magic routine, although not as hard-hitting on time, takes a bunch of hand-picked products and gadgets. Needless to say, even if one of them is missing, like them dominoes, it all comes crumbling down and I just know I'm heading for disaster. I can recount at least three vacation memories which, although very much intended for a state of nirvana, started with a spike in heart rate and anxiety levels, cos I realized that I don't have my make-up primer or the multi-plug extension cord to my blow dryer. (Read agony aunt.) 

My outer-world face is fairly predictable, like a uniform. I almost never look like I got a make-over (cos they scare the jeepers out of me). Sometimes, you'll see a pretty good crimson pout. On really good days, you'd see no kohl, hair worn off my face, earrings and dewy skin. And on really crappy days, an awful attempt at a winged eye-liner (picture my left eye chasing my right) or a nasty blotch of green all over my eyelids with a trampy lipstick. I mean if you ever look at me and feel tempted to ask me if my four-year old did my make-up for me, take my word for it. DON'T.

Elizabeth Taylor once said, "Pour yourself a drink, put on some lipstick, and throw yourself together." She got that right. Make-up to a woman (well, most women) is therapeutic. For me, the ritual of make-up is what I like to call my me-time, just some good ol' quality time getting my game face on and zoning out of the everyday grinds of an ordinary mum's life. For starters, it's an escape route.  Remember this? You're having a couples' night and you're not really having the wildest of fun, listening to the men go on and on excitedly about "the game". Et voila! One of your other girl friends, a freakin' mind-reader, goes, "I gotta go to the ladies room." And you say, rather too quickly, "Oh, I'll come with! Need to brush my hair." And the men at the table exchange these looks, smirking to themselves, "Oh, there goes an hour unexplained. We'll call you when the food gets here." And one of them makes this casual remark, "You know, you don't need to look pretty for us!" They don't get it. But that remark — it gets you really peeved for some reason. It makes you wonder, "Do I really wear make-up to get the attention of my man, to be noticed, to get first dibs at cocktails from the bartender in a crowd, in other words, to have it my way? Or do I wear make-up to put myself out there among the sea of beautiful young women, unknowingly batting their eyelashes in conformity with vague beauty standards that even a teenage Beauty Youtuber would demonstrate with her shiny, happy Disney beauty box?

I'm not even going to pretend that all those allegations are not partially true for me but mostly, I wear make-up to play with all the possibilities that, at least on the surface, my face can offer. Cos while I find it very hard not to be cynical most of the times, at least my face can help brighten things up for me. And I need not reiterate that it is a super-fun ritual. It has even lowered its mystical quotient, so that an otherwise klutzy woman like me, who cannot sit still for an eye-liner, can now draw a perfectly curvy line on her eyelids. Make-up is for everyone. Or so it seems. Even if you thought you could just go #iwokeuplikethis or #nomakeup on Instagram, there'd be at least two products/hacks you'd be thinking of exploring before you can dare to show your raw, carefully-curated, au naturel self to the world. 

But there are times, especially when you're sitting in a circle playing that self-introspective game, "If you could take only three things to a remote island, what would they be?", you have to ask yourself, "Can I live without making myself up? Can I bloody walk out that door, reacquainting myself to my bare skin in sunlight without having to feel naked? Can I revel in my dishevelled curls, small mouth, pools of under-eye darkness and all the tiny imperfections that make me who I am? Sure, maybe in a post-apocalyptic world, I could get used to the idea. Or when I'm lying down on the beach feeling one with nature, when a waterproof eyeliner just seems a bit much. (Then again, one of those aqua-coloured lines on the lower lids would look very zen-like.)

Nevertheless, I want to be able to teach my daughter, who's also a keen spectator of the art of face-painting, that it is important to accept who you are for every little detail that makes you YOU . I want to be able to teach her about the delicate balance between caring too much and not caring at all. Not sure if I can set a shining example though as I still struggle to come to terms with my real face. Maybe, getting to my mid-thirties, I also wear make-up as a war-paint against time, to be seen as I am, and not by the flaws that would take some wincing when seen on a reflective surface in bright lights. Maybe I wear it to save time from all the faux soul-searching with my mirror reflection, ones that start with, "Well, sure you've lost your natural twenties luminous skin. But look at what you've gained in wisdom."( Don't you hate wisdom?)

I hope one day I can show her, through example, that a face untethered from such worries is usually the most distinct, most breathable, most gleaming. And what we should really be after is finding comfort in our own skin before we go finding 5 dupes for Priyanka Chopra's Oscar lipstick.

And I hope one day, I wake up to that piece of wisdom and take it with me as I step out the door. I can only imagine how liberating that would be.


"If you could take only three things to a remote island, what would they be?"

Have you given this a thought? I'd love to hear from you in your comments...

Tress Distress

The world's divided into two camps - the straight-haired and the curly-haired. Occasionally these two kinds bump into one another - at a party, on a street, in a cafe, at a funeral... And sooner or later, they wind up expressing an affiliation to the other side...The polka straight-haired girl will be like, "My hair's so boring. Blah..." The bouncy curl- haired girl will go, "My hair's wild. I just can't get it to behave... especially when I want it to."

Personally, I find this exchange cute. However, my heart bleeds for the curly-haired girl. (For one, cos my hair's the erratic, perennially PMSing, wavy-curly category.) Honestly, I'm not able to completely empathize with the straight-haired girl. I mean what does she have to complain about? Hair's boring? Hello... Atleast you can depend on it to not look like a cat got electrocuted on your head. I recall an interesting conversation with an old friend ,who has super-sleek, polished hair. She says, "Straight hair's like having this really hot boyfriend but also very, very dull at times." Uh-huh? Well curly hair's like having this wild beast with tentacles sprouting in all directions for a boyfriend defying all acceptable laws of conduct... Who's also a freakin' weather barometer for Pete's sake!

So enough dramatics...I'll cut to the chase. I kind of have a love-hate relationship with my hair (bordering towards hate most of the times). There are times when I can't take my eyes off the bouncy cascading spiral curls that make me ME. But then mostly, I lead a follicular dual life and just blow dry them out of sight, the customary tangles done away with. I'm so damn attached to my blow dryer that I spent a whole day whining and hunting down a multi-plug extension cord on a vacation in Spain and didn't rest until my bangs were underneath the comforting hot stream of air that has so much to promise. Still sends a cold shiver down my spine to think of life without it. Now don't get me wrong. I have nothing against curls and embracing who I am. But at times my hair's a freaking nightmare...all the frizzy kinks and antiquated curls come to life and haunt me for the rest of the day...and if somebody dares ask, "What have you done to your hair?" or if a vacuous hairdresser would say, "Why don't you get it straightened?", I swear, a part of me just dies a little every time.

And the inevitable happened. I got exhausted from the subservience to straighteners and thought of giving myself some personal gratification by moving over to the other side. I got my hair relaxed. The verdict? Even though initially I was thrilled to bits about how organized and professional my hair was, I did get weary of the same look everyday. And along with the glossy sheen and sleeker locks, came various stages of hair trauma, the worst being raggedy Bob Marley-ish kind of mops that were stuck somewhere in no man's land, totally nondescript.

But it occurred to me that there's got to be a simpler, less neurotic way of accepting who I am and I don't have to feel like I'm stepping out without my pants every time I go out with my natural curls.

My curls - Au Natural

So after a lot of experiments in the hair lab, I've come up with some kickass styling tips for all of us curlies that guarantee a hair identity loaded with purpose and pride.

What you will need to include in your styling kit:
1. A smoothening hair conditioner and shampoo
2. A leave-in conditioner meant for curly hair
3. A hair brush with soft bristles
4. A wide-toothed comb

First of all, let me go ahead and say it, I think both straight hair and curly hair are beautiful. And both come with their own woes - maintenance hiccups so to speak. All you need is a commitment to a hair care routine that works for you.

This is what works for me:
1. Washing curly hair:
My scalp's pretty oily so I need to wash my hair thrice a week. I use a straightening shampoo and conditioner to relax my curls but if you like your curls as they are, you should use a curl-protection shampoo. Of course, I make sure that I get atleast one DIY deep conditioning treatment and/or hot oil massage per week to counter the dryness and frizz.

2. DIY Hair Conditioning Treatments:
I've done a plethora of hair treatments using the frugal goodness of pantry products.
My top-rated treatments that'll not only help smoothen your hair but also give it that extra boost are:
I Coconut milk and honey mask:
 I can't rave about this enough. I mean it takes precious little time and literally works like a hair reincarnation especially for the lower strands that can look so lifeless and burnt out. Plus it smells nice too. All you need to do is get a bowl of coconut milk and  mix it with a tablespoon of honey and heat it until warm. Apply it on your hair until your hair's dripping with it. (Really just no need to economize.) Leave it for 15 minutes and then wash your hair the usual way. You'll find your hair light, bouncy and frizz-free.

II Beer conditioner: 
Again, you can't get simpler than this. Just pour a glass of flat beer through your hair and use your fingers to massage it onto the scalp. Leave it for 15 minutes and then wash your hair. This definitely helps get rid of any build-up and gives your hair good volume (Not the crazy Humidity Monica kinds but the fulsome Amy Adams kind.)

III Yoghurt and egg hair mask: 
Stink bomb but a deep moisturizing one. Break an egg into whisked yoghurt and massage it onto your scalp. Leave it on for 30 minutes. Wash it off with a mild shampoo to seal the moisture onto your tresses.
Disclaimer: Not recommended as a pre-wash treatment if you have a hot date or any other commitment involving people.

IV Olive Oil Massage: Lukewarm extra virgin olive oil massage does wonders for your hair. For best results, leave overnight.

3. How to Style your Hair (Au natural):
"Throw that blowdryer out the window!" NOT.... I'm not suggesting you need to get rid of your hot-headed stylist friends completely but here's how you can minimalize heat damage and still not look frazzled, in fact maybe even get your curls to dazzle. (Excuse my lame attempts at poetry.)

I. Leave-in Conditioner: 

Get an absolutely brilliant curl-protection, frizz-control, smoothening leave-in conditioner. Absolutely must-have for curly locks! I find the L'oreal Kerastase Nutritive Oleo-Curl Definition Creme quite spot on. Does what it claims. I haven't had frizz for the longest time and I live in Mumbai!

II. Combing your Hair: 

I have one of those neuroses where I just have to run a comb through my hair once I'm out of the shower. Using a wide-toothed comb, I find, is a great option to avoid hair breakage and a sensitive scalp.

III. Styling: 
Ok, I know that we all have days when your hair just won't listen to you, no matter how much time and product you invest in it. And that's when you'll be tempted to give it some hot blows to keep it under check. But trust me, you don't need a high heat setting to style your hair.

Just follow these steps:

1. After wash, towel dry your hair and then apply a leave-in. All you need is a dime-size amount on your fingers and work it first on the ends of your hair moving up to the roots. To get looser curls, run your fingers through your hair in a downward motion.
2. To detangle your hair, just run a wide-toothed comb through it. Now it's ready to be styled. While your hair's still wet, just flip it upside down and scrunch your hair by taking handfuls of it and squeezing them upwards. Let your hair dry naturally. Once detangled, DO NOT comb your hair until it's dry.
3. If you have to use the blow dryer, use it to straighten your bangs. Use a medium-heat setting and ensure that the blowdryer is at least 8 inches away from your hair. Style your hair till it's about 80% dry. And then use the cool setting to finish. (This way you won't have flyaways and frizz)
4. If you don't have a blow dryer and you also can't have your hair wearing a flaccid, lifeless, and shaggy look, don't fret. All you need is a couple of bob pins and a clip. After applying a leave-in and scrunching your hair, when you get to the point when your hair starts drying and doing the crazies, twirl it all up in a bun and secure it with a clip. If your bangs are prone to getting uninvited kinks that you just can't stand, comb them down and off to one side. Slide on a hair pin where it's prone to getting curly and leave it on for as long as you can. This is best done overnight but may also work as a quick fix. 

Tip: Another styling option for those days when you have utterly belligerent hair is to tie it in a loose side braid. I think it gives a really romantic, boho-chic sort of appeal to curly hair.

Straightened bangs with scrunched hair

Swept up bangs with crimped waves

Side braid with loose curls

Frankly, even though, I'm not successful at being completely off the blowdryer (as I'm enslaved to it to straighten my bangs), there's a bit of a liberation in wearing your hair the way it is - the lightness of knowing that you don't have to worry about contact with water, the Cinderalla-ish "chariot turning into pumpkin" sorta obsession buried underneath. I'm trying to wean off heat styling gradually but meanwhile, I'm happy to explore the variety my mane in its natural state has to offer. A constructed naturalness so to speak :).