Hair Care Part III: All About Eyelashes

Twiggy and I ventured away from all major subway lines (i.e. escape routes) as Glam drove us deeper into the Bronx. We went on highways, through tolls in and out of small towns until Glam dumped up in front of a small nail salon where everyone was getting long, plastic tips and glitter seemed to be the “it” thing. Glam instructed us to go the back where in small, private rooms the eyelash extending took place.

Twiggy and I tripped over patrons soaking their feet in basins only to discover that there was a lengthy waiting list of women waiting to have their eyelashes attended to. We scrawled our names on a piece of scrap paper and stood awkwardly on opposite corners of the salon as there were literally no available seats (apparently getting your nails done was a family activity – husbands and children actively participated).

I have rather sensitive, fluttery eyes. If diagnosed with a vision problem I’d be sentenced to a life with glasses, as contacts would not be an option. I can’t even put eye drops in effectively. Needless to say, my heart went out to the Asian woman misfortunate enough to have to perform this procedure on me. The application process involved me laying down trying to focus on dirty spots on the grey ceiling while she used tweezer-like tools to apply the fake eyelashes onto my own.

Despite the slight discomfort, the result was well worth it. Twiggy and I both felt like supermodels on the metro north train we took back into the city. This Bronx beatification had been an all day affair, and I couldn’t wait to get back to the familiar territory of Grand Central.

The best part about eyelash extensions is that you wake up everyday feeling ready to strut a runway. There’s no need for eyeliner or eye make-up of any sort. You’re ready to go out 24-7 – no effort required. It’s advised not to take hot showers as the steam can hinder the eyelash adhesive. For me, this wasn’t a problem. The lashes stayed in and felt solid for over two weeks. I even flew to London with them. That was the first red-eye flight that I skipped off of looking fabulous.

Then I got back to New York, and the eyelashes were still on. In fact, they showed no sign of ever falling off. It had been three weeks, and while I felt I had stretched my $15 to max, I was also acutely aware that I was beginning to look like a transvestite. See, the extensions grow out with your eyelashes (yes, eyelashes grow) so after three weeks they were absurdly long (and absurdly obvious). People began to ask about them (not so much what I was hoping for)…

I decided to follow the Asian Bronx woman’s trusty directions, which was to gently remove the eyelashes with warm water and baby oil. Twiggy had long ago removed hers with “lavender baby oil cream” which she suggested I purchase. Lots of gentle tugging and baby oil later the lashes hadn’t budged. That’s when panic set in.

The majority of panicked people in the US tend to turn to an arms/weaponry store or (more sanely) the Internet. On the web, I discovered that a special “eyelash remover” existed which dissolved the amazingly strong eyelash extension glue (why had I been avoiding hot showers this whole time? An industrial sauna wouldn’t put a dent in this stuff). This antidote to the eyelash glue can be compared to nail polish remover – smelly, strong, toxic and able to get the job done. Problem was that your average Duane Reade/drugstore didn’t carry this product.

More panic.

Luckily, I live near Chinatown and at one of those huge discount beauty supply stores I was able to locate a thimble size bottle of the miracle juice that would restore my eyelashes to their natural state.

Note: I never would have got through this on my own. I had a friend (we’ll call her Navy) who happened to be visiting. She took the eyelashes off dipping a q-tip in the magic juice and wiping it on my eyes. It took over 30 minutes, and we worried we’d need another bottle of anti-adhesive. I was trying not to cry.

The glue was insane stuff. And (of course) a lot of MY eyelashes came off in the process. When I looked in the mirror after all the trauma I felt like bald man. My eyelashes were sparse and tufty. I had gone from glamazon to pathetic in a way that no amount of mascara could fix. It was a sad, bitter day.

The good news is that eyelashes do grow back, and after two or three weeks my lashes experienced a full recovery.

Ever since then, I’ve just stuck to mascara. Ladies, make an informed decision before extending your eyelashes (which I hear in the city can cost $300 and up). For $15, I definitely got my glue-worth…