Recently, myself and my sister were discussing certain beauty mistakes girls make in life, and how we will try our absolute hardest to make sure any future daughters we have have as few of these as possible.
Because y’know, as funny as it is to look back and laugh about it, shit ain’t cute.
But in the art of reminiscing, I’ve compiled a few of the things I would have liked to not relive every so often when I think I’m having a bad day appearance wise in a violent flashback.
G I R L. I know many many people will relate to the horror story that is their eyebrow history, and to those who have recovered, well done. I admire your strength during their regrowth and I wish you nothing but a full, healthy, strong brow game forever more.
As a young girl, I had naturally platinum blonde locks and thick, DARK fucking eyebrows. And it wasn’t cute in a Cara Delevingne eat your heart out way, It felt a lot more like Blanca Flores from OITNB.
So what did I do? Get my mum to pluck them. My mum is not a beautician. And although she tried her best (thank you mum) I looked permanently surprised in the most over arched, thin, sperm resembling way ever. So y’know just to make things worse I kept trying to correct them, and they got smaller and smaller.
I’ve struggled for SO long trying to grow them back and make them look half decent and I think after almost 10 years of torture, they’re *finally* getting there.
I’ve been paler that a snowman on Christmas day for my whole life. I have Scottish heritage so my skin never really agrees with the whole “tanning” process and would rather just burn immediately no matter what factor sun cream I slap on. Fun times.
During my teen years, myself and my friend of equally unfortunate pale and likely to burn tendencies wanted that bronzed goddess completion ready for summer, so as our mums were a bit apprehensive about us buying actual self tanners which were pretty expensive, we purchased a Garnier gradual self tanning moisturizer. This one to be specific.
DISASTER. It smelt awful. No matter how much you showered it lingered on you. Especially during hot sweaty summer months. Delish. And worst of all, we were fucking orange. Not sun kissed bronze, not golden brown, ORANGE. And we thought we looked fabulous, naturally.
Up until the nauseating smell wore off that was obviously affecting our vision and we realized how ridiculous we actually looked.
I don’t have any photo evidence of the orangeness, but honestly, its for the best.
I’ve now been using St. Moriz for years for all of my tanning needs, and its honestly the best one I’ve ever used and its so cheap!
For some reason still unbeknown, in year 9, I decided that I, an idiot, wanted blonde highlights. Once again, as my mum is not a professional, it was YELLOW. And back then, the world of beauty was still quite foreign to me, so purple shampoo wasn’t there to save me.
Not to mention the whole “Cara” eyebrow thing I had going on, DARK thick eyebrows with my fab yellow hair? Awful.
Fortunately, I decided to dye my hair chocolate brown when I was 16, and I’ve never looked back since.
I’ve had bad skin since I was around 11 years old. mostly down to genetics, but now I believe that some it was also down to the way I looked after it. I used a face washes from to time, such as the Netrogena grapfruit face scrub, which although looked nice and smelled nice, did NOTHING for my skin and I feel probably irritated it more if anything.
When I started wearing make up, on the odd occasion I actually did take my make up off before bed (Iknow okay) I used BABY WIPES to take it off. Not even make up wipes. Baby wipes.
Although I still have a bit of scarring and the odd few spots, My face actually looks quite clear thanks to the face that I now y’know ACTUALLY look after it. I micellar water to remove make up initially, and then Liz Earle cleansing polish to make sure everything is off of my face.
As I think every other girl my age did, when I first started using foundation, I used the infamous dream matte mousse. 3 shades too dark for my face, greasy, and to top it off, i’d put a bit on my lips too, because y’know apparently it was attractive to look like a fucking corpse.
Now I’ve realized the importance of quality in foundations, I know what skin type I have and what to avoid so that my forehead isn’t so shiny you could see your own reflection in it.
I’m sure in ten years I’ll be writing another post on how embarrassing everything I do now is.
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