Bushy brows are my thing. I remember in high school I would tug at them, pull them out and leave them on my friend Jason’s desk. That’s how I learned that sometimes they would get split ends. Brooke Shields made bushy brows very Vogue, but mine were just out of control; brows gone rogue! I went through years of being teased about my brows. Now looking back on it, anyone coming of age in the 80s probably has proof of crazy grooming choices that make them cringe. The sight of big hair and the lack of tweezing make flipping through old photo albums rather painful; yet a laugh riot.
The memory of my first eyebrow waxing is still fresh in my mind. Two decades later it’s still one of those necessities on my to-do-list unless I want to be a poster child for the next version of a Chia-Pet. For the past two years I had been getting great results from a salon where a couple of technicians knew exactly how I liked them shaped. My last visit there went a bit awry when a new gal was on duty. Even though I explained what I wanted I left with pencil thin brows and one was arched a bit higher than the other. 
I spent a week looking like I was doing an impersonation of The Rock. I had to wait several weeks to grow them out. So, yesterday I visited a new salon to test out a new architect to take me through the Mr. Miyagi motions of “Wax On, Wax Off.” And just like Daniel-san she found “balance” and I felt like I should have been yelling Banzai!
A Dose of R&R 