When I was in high school, reducing my arches to pin-thin semicircles seemed like a worthy use of my time. (Tweezers should be labelled, “Warning: Trends will change; over-plucked brows are forever.”) Thankfully, Winks Eyelash Boutique in Toronto’s swish Yorkville now offers brow extensions ($65) after customers pimping out their lashes started begging for souped-up arches, too.
DAY 1: “This one is more straight. This one is more rounded,” says technician MeiLi with a wink, while gluing 100 centimetre-long brunette hairs to my forehead. She promises to fix the asymmetry and bulk me up Cara D. style. After an hour, I have obedient, dense brows that narrow to soft points.
DAY 2: Dancing in a basement bar, I forget about the faux fuzz, until I push my sweaty hair from my forehead and skim it. Oops. I wasn’t supposed to get them wet for the first 24 hours. The reminder raises a more serious concern: are my heavy brows too man-repelling—too Bert—for the bar?
DAY 7: Over the past week, not a single person comments on my new look, which I take to be a sign they look natural. But I’m hyperaware of their fragility and have a habit of rubbing them. Every time I lose a hair, I’m equal parts bummed and relieved. I love their boldness, but I hate having them on my face.
DAY 10: Only a few falsies remain. I have a dream that my arches are a scraggly mess of only 20 or so hairs. When I wake up, I realize I’ve reached a new low in brow vanity. But at least now I know where to get them fixed.