I’m no stranger to eyelash enhancement. On special occasions, I’ve been known to invest in individual lashes (purchased from my local drugstore) and strategically affix them to my peepers. And they look great … for about 48 hours. After which the lashes become deciduous, falling off at the most inopportune moments – like, in the middle of your lunch, right into your soup, in front of your boss – causing you to look like you have alopecia of the eyeballs. Hot.
Eyelash extensions are a long-term solution to the paltry eyelash problem, without the potential downsides (e.g. eyelid darkening and iris pigmentation) of the popular Latisse. They are pretty much what they sound like: falsies for your eyelashes. A (hopefully) skilled aesthetician glues individual polymer strands to your own individual lashes with a special kind of adhesive that will keep them in place until your eyelash naturally falls out (generally between three to six weeks). Since an extension is applied to an individual lash (not all of them, but about 30-70 per eye), it’s pretty time-consuming and, apparently, an art. Who knew?
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I start by making an appointment with Gigi (all names have been changed to protect the innocent). Prices for this thing vary based on where you get this done (hole-in-the-wall versus full-scale spa) and what kind of lashes you get (synthetic versus natural, usually silk of mink). Normally, the price range is between $150 to $300. I opt for Gigi, as she came highly recommended on Yelp and her prices are pretty reasonable. Because I loathe spending a ton on an untested beauty process, I opt for the synthetic mink lashes, which at Gigi’s salon are $80. The process will take 2 hours.
Gigi is apparently very hip. She calls the night before our appointment and leaves me a message, asking me to confirm via text. I do, and the reply I receive reads, “C yeah.” Not generally a stickler for grammar, I’m still concerned because this woman will be applying glue close to my precious eyeballs (the FDA does not presently regulate this procedure). I re-read the Yelp reviews, imbibe a little “mother’s helper” in the form of NyQuil, and put my fears aside long enough to go to sleep.
I arrive the next day, armed with my iPod and ready to bliss out to some NPR podcasts while my lashes become beautified. Easier said than done. The process begins when Gigi lays protective silicone pads under my eyes. For whatever reason, these seem to really irritate my eyes, which start watering profusely. And since tears are eyelash glue’s worst enemy, it takes some adjusting of the pads before my eyes relax and we can move on. Next, she lays some “tape” (really it’s paper with a very light adhesive) over my bottom lashes to protect them. More watering, more waiting. After about 10 minutes, Gigi can start in earnest.
She asks what I want as far as lash length, I ask her for a natural length — I don’t need to be looking like a Harajuku girl. Then she asks about curl — so many options! And again, I tell her to go conservative. My lashes are pretty sparse, and I don’t want to walk out looking like I have curly spiders glued to my eyelids.
Gigi keeps working, and I lightly drift off into sleep. I wake up to a cramp in my foot. Also, I have to pee. Not moving for two hours is harder work than I imagined. Thankfully, there are only 20 minutes left in the process, and I manage to keep distracting myself with the dulcet ramblings of Ira Glass. As she finishes, Gigi gives me pointers for lash-care, which include no washing my face in the shower and no sleeping on my side or stomach, nothing that pushes my face into a pillow. I tell her this may put a serious damper on my love life. She does not laugh.
She’s finally ready for me to open my eyes … and I am shocked. This is conservative? My lashes are way longer and thicker. I mean, it’s awesome, but so not subtle, at least to me.
But, apparently, they are subtle. My most honest friends, who lovingly point out every foible and whom I have not told about this procedure, simply tell me they like my eye makeup, even though I’m actually not wearing any. And I have definitely noticed a higher than normal ratio of good-looking guys smiling and saying hello. The final, true test: within three minutes of walking into Home Depot, I get approached by an employee who offers his assistance. Five minutes later, a different employee offers help. Ladies, I have cracked the Home Depot code. Thanks, lashes!
The verdict: an intense and kind of expensive procedure, which produces a dramatic effect. Worth it? Yes, so far, though I’m having trouble getting over how fake I feel. Funny to think that after 10 years of living in L.A. I’m still not okay with being fake. I guess I have a lot to learn.
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Coming out of a post-vacation haze just in time to very belatedly respond to this. The last of the lashes – applied just before Valentines day – is still loving attached. They looked pretty darn full for 4 weeks, then started to fall out a few at a time.
They recommend getting them refilled every 2-3 weeks (to the tune of $40-50), so it’s a pretty big commitment. Thank your momma and pappa for the genes that gave you good lashes. For the rest of us, it’s a lot of work!
Love it! I’ve always wanted to try this!
I’m lucky to be blessed with a good set of eyelashes *fingers crossed that they stay that way* but I have seen these on people — a dramatic effect, definitely, but do they last? Or do they eventually come off a few at a time and get in your eye?