The Casualties of Aesthetics

I sit gripping my seat as she pours some ungodly solution into my eye, drowning my eyeball in a burning concoction, only to wipe it down with the paper towels that were on sale at Sobey's. It feels like sandpaper on my delicate yeux. What have I gotten myself into?

She goes on to tear out my falsies from the real lashes. I feel like it would be appropriate for her to give me a slab of wood to bite down on - straight up medieval style. Cursing her name, I promise never to get eyelash extensions again.

Vanity was indeed the culprit in my latest bad idea, paired with the need to explore the things women do to enhance their appearance. Now my eyes burn, and I could use an eye patch but Pirate stores are limited, where's Galliano when I need him?

Weeks leading up to my luxurious new lashes that felt like splinters in my eyes, I sent out a mass email to my wonderful girlfriends for any stories they could share that involved a run in with vanity followed by a horrific backlash of pain. The replies flooded in and with my crest white strips fastened, I read on.

Third degree burns from a tanning bed, a Brazilian wax gone wrong - leaving the victim unable to sit for days, the usual loss of an eyebrow during a threading mishap, a lip injection causing the swelling of the whole mouth region for months, perm induced hair loss- and it wasn't even the 80's, and the list goes on.

My question is, why do we put ourselves through such agony? Isn't childbirth and varicose veins enough suffering? Nights out dancing in size-too-small Jimmy's are enough pain, but women everywhere flock toward the latest treatment to burn off the unwanted hair.

How many hours of our lives do we spend driving from one appointment to the next, sitting with our feet soaking while trying to make conversation with the esthetician, flipping through magazines waiting for a stylist, or trying to master the art of opening the car door without smudging nail polish. I'm not saying become burley cave women, burn your bra and emerge on a Saturday night looking like a sea urchin, but I am saying make darn sure your man appreciates it.

That is all.

By Lauren Shirreffs

Lauren Shirreffs, Dazed And Amused
		About the author:
		Having graduated from Fitness and Health Promotion, Lauren then completed a Fashion Marketing and Merchandising program. Still hungry for more education, she studied Italian, took creative writing, attended poetry readings and read Plato, adopting his mantra as her own: “knowledge is power”.  A perpetual learner and hopeless romantic, Lauren has traveled Europe and now calls  London, England home.  A brave soul moving to a country in the depths of a credit crunch, she documents random occurrences on her blog, contemplates love and dating on WOMAN.ca, and divides her time between writing, more writing and of course, travel.
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