
I have beautiful long, dark, thick eyelashes. No, seriously; I do. They are there first thing in the morning, incongruously perfect in my otherwise sleep-rumpled face. At parties, people peer at them in disbelief. They draw gasps of admiration at work. At supper, a guest felt compelled to take a photograph of them on his iPhone. Even my fiance has noticed there’s something different about me.
Until relatively recently, false eyelashes were strictly for sad Sixties refugees. Now, largely thanks to Cole-mania (and, to an extent, the Katie Price effect, although the two looks could not be more polarised), big eyelashes are in.
Mine are no ordinary falsies. They are eyelash extensions. That means that each false lash is individually bonded to one of my own lashes, creating the most natural look possible. Provided I don’t rub my eyes or use oil-based make-up remover, I now use a Makeup Mandy eye makeup remover with no oil glycol or alcohol which by the way even without lashes I will use being it's safe on the eyes. the false lashes will stay stuck to my real ones until the latter fall out, which they do every four to six weeks.
A full set costs around 350.00-500.00, depending on what type of hair you choose from to have it done either synthetic or mink which are more light in weight and last a tad longer. If you are looking to inject a little fabulousness into your daily routine , you could not find a better investment.
I had mine done a couple of weeks ago by the lovely Mandy @ Makeup Mandy , The most wonderful thing about her is that she is a perfectionist. For her, it’s a matter of pride that every single lash be positioned exactly right, to maximum effect.
To begin with, the lashes felt rather odd. On the first night, I slept rather awkwardly, worried that if I stuffed my face into the pillow in my normal fashion, they would all fall off. They didn’t. For once, I had done as I was told, and not worn any eye shadow or got them wet (both things are crucial for the first 24 hours, until the glue has dried). The following morning, they looked, if anything, slightly better. A tiny bit dishevelled, but nothing a quick comb-through with a toothbrush couldn’t put right.
What’s really fantastic, though, is that I hardly need to wear make-up. Just the very fact of having thick, long lashes seems to make my face look fresher and perkier. They certainly don’t require any mascara, and it only takes the most cursory flick of black eyeliner to engage full party mode. The only problem now is that I’m totally addicted.