Beauty is Pain: We Test the Beautiful Products & Myths So You Don’t Hafta': First Fiction: You Sell the Sizzle (by Monique D.)

The Beauty Tale: In ancient times, Japanese gals employed searing metal implements in making flippy lashes. My eyeball. Beauty is pain. (Sizzle.) Eyeball sssssssss’ing. Heavy onomatopoeia. Gangsta’ that I am, I touched the oven-roasted butter knife to my tongue. Tongue sssssssss’ed. Temporarily blinded, then healed by Rx antidote, Gentak brand, Gentamicin Sulfate Ophthalmic Ointment USP, 0.3%. I kept tha’ eyeballs, this anecdote, and accidental Jackass-like shame.
My lashes weren’t even that curly.
The Guilty Parties: Most recently the heated-utensil-as-underground-Far-East-stylist-tool fable wafted among friends in bars. My obsession stemmed from the Nordstrom sparkle-dealing blondazons. The glamazon story of hardcore ancient Japanese bitches and modern contemporaries with plug-in eyelash permers was paired with heartless sales pressure. These Nordie wannabe’-mid-life-crisis-trade-ups were selling the Japonesque. The mini-heated curler that gently warms eyeballs like love. A love and a heat reminiscent of the $1 Tejas stripper boob-facial sparklizer. But less dangerous. Pony up to the tip bar, folks, it feels that good, and it lasts that long. Asian battery-operated toy-time is a short run; so, if you need that eyeball tan and a flashing green light, trade up to the $10 cheaper equaline version pictured here (Albertsons). The crimping action is intense for a heating curler, and the handling is safer than the more weapon-like name-brand designs.

The Post-Script: As per my Japanese-American pal, Mary, Asian lashes can be course and difficult to curl, hence the hot action.