Back in the '80s I had the opportunity to meet Jaqueline "Jackie" Stallone, you-know-whose mother. The occasion may have been a fundraiser, just-say-no-to-drugs rally or supermarket opening; the specifics have escaped along with millions of other memory cells. But one detail of that day managed to hang on -- Ms. Stallone's yard-long, rhinestone-studded fake eyelashes. The celebrity mom kicked up a minor windstorm every time she batted those monstrous fans.
That image resurfaced when Nava, a Shi Tzu-Lhasa Apso, checked in. What I originally thought were dark tufts of fur near her eyebrows turned out to be, on closer inspection, four-inch-long eyelashes.
It is a sad day when one envies a dog for their stunning good looks, but I'm down to about four lashes per eyeball. A decade-old tube of mascara, lonely shut-in that it is, still rolls around the bathroom drawer.
There are beauticians (sorry, estheticians), licensed and certified to apply eyelash extensions. In the grand scheme of things, I would prefer to die with nearly bald eyelids than an Andy Rooney brow ridge. If I die with both, go with the closed-casket option, okay?
That image resurfaced when Nava, a Shi Tzu-Lhasa Apso, checked in. What I originally thought were dark tufts of fur near her eyebrows turned out to be, on closer inspection, four-inch-long eyelashes.
It is a sad day when one envies a dog for their stunning good looks, but I'm down to about four lashes per eyeball. A decade-old tube of mascara, lonely shut-in that it is, still rolls around the bathroom drawer.
There are beauticians (sorry, estheticians), licensed and certified to apply eyelash extensions. In the grand scheme of things, I would prefer to die with nearly bald eyelids than an Andy Rooney brow ridge. If I die with both, go with the closed-casket option, okay?
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