Just hearing the words “threading your eyebrows” sounded painful. So when our eldest daughter put in a request to have her own eyebrows threaded I winced. Hmm …this was something I wasn’t going to miss.
Being at the Roseville Galleria the day after Christmas was painful enough. Locating a parking space was causing my knuckles to turn white on the steering wheel. After spotting an available parking space two rows away, our youngest daughter volunteered to sacrifice her body as a traffic cone.
“I could stand there to save the spot” she suggested.
“Stay in the car. I’m following a prospective parking space right now,” I said, slowly inching our car behind a woman walking to her vehicle.
This visit to the mall was two-fold. The flatiron one daughter received as a gift was the wrong color. She wanted mint green — not powder blue. The other daughter needed a new cell phone — any color optional.
Somewhere between the kiosk selling flatirons and the food court we wound up in a store called Beauty by Thread. One daughter’s eyebrow threading is this father’s fodder for a newspaper column.
For those readers unaware of how this threading technique works it could best be described as a cross between basket weaving and flossing your teeth.
The victim (our oldest daughter in this case) sat in a chair resting her head back on a headrest. A woman in a white lab coat pulled a spool of white thread from her pocket. She twisted the thread to form a cat’s cradle of sorts and placed the end of the thread in her mouth. (Yes you read that correctly.)
Then, while maneuvering the thread between her fingers, she pinches the eyebrow hair and tugs the thread clenched in her teeth. This combination hand and head action results in the hair being yanked out.
After some coaxing, dad found himself in the chair having his eyebrows “threaded.” (I’ll do anything for a column)
Let’s face it. Some men need occasional eyebrow maintenance. If not, they develop what’s known as a “unabrow.” And sure enough, there it was on the price chart for just $5.
I remember my first experience removing excess eyebrow hair as a kid. My mother used tweezers. She had no mercy — sometimes pulling entire patches of hair out with a single jerk of the wrist. I learned very quickly to do this facial maintenance myself; anything to avoid the pain inflicted by my mother.
Now, it seemed a bit awkward sitting in a chair having my eyebrows plucked by a woman in a lab coat holding a strand of thread between her fingers and teeth. Interesting how the procedure seemed quite painless while observing my kids having their eyebrows plucked moments before.
Mine on the other hand…
I didn’t give enough thought before being prodded into volunteering my eyebrows to the cause.
At times it sounded like sandpaper scratching against my face. In reality it felt like someone was ripping off a bandage with a cluster of hair still attached.
At one point the “thread lady” asked my wife for assistance holding my eyelids down.
I didn’t realize I had hair there too I mumbled. A few more plucks and this woman will need assistance keeping my entire body in the chair.
“Be sure to leave her a tip dad,” my daughter whispered as I was paying.
It just didn’t seem right. A stranger rips my eyebrows off my face and I’m supposed to give her a tip?
“You look great!” my wife remarked as we walked out of the store. “How does it feel?”
“My eyebrows hurt,” I replied.
Between the traffic, parking, pushing and shoving, gift exchanging, and eyebrow threading I only have one word to describe the day after Christmas … painful.
Richard Esposito is publisher of Village Life. Contact him at [email protected].