There are few things I hate more than waking up in the morning, bleary eyed and disoriented, and stumbling into the bathroom to stare down my naked, makeup-free face.
Now, I enjoy putting on makeup as much as anyone else who also happens to enjoy it. But one of my complaints about doing so during the work week, at such an early hour, is that it all seems for naught. I follow a pretty strict regimen, but an hour-long commute complete with train-switching and bus-catching can take its toll on all my hard work before I even set foot in the office.
One area that I never have issues with, however, is my eyelashes. I’ve been told since I was thirteen by everyone from dental assistants to bus drivers that I have good lashes. They’re long enough to almost touch my eyebrows, and they curve upward instead of sticking straight without the help of a curler. What all these fools don’t know is that without the help of mascara, my eyelashes are actually thin, sparse, and not very dark—albeit long enough to put in a ponytail. Continue reading