It’s not often that I pick up my laptop to do MORE work when I get home from a day microblading. If any of my regular clients are reading this, you will know the way my days feel when I am in clinic, the work is undoubtedly rewarding, but of course, tiring in equal measure. Needless to say, today was similar in most respects bar one. I microbladed someone that moved me and compelled me to extend this working day further by putting pen to paper (sort of).
We all know that the benefits of microblading can be far reaching. I often feel as though I sound like a totally brow obsessed idiot talking to clients about not underestimating the power of what these eyebrows can do, and I know that to some extent you all secretly laugh at me when we first meet. How can someone be so passionate about a silly pair of eyebrows, I can almost hear it when I am looking at you with those blank looks on your faces when we are going through our consultative process. But, as I always say, you will be back. And you will probably end up putting my number on speed dial. Not because I can guarantee how long your microblading will last you, how defined each stroke will be and promise that I get the cool/neutral tone just right once it has dealt with your entirely unique physiology and composition of skin. It is really down to something a lot more basic than that. My clients know that I care (sometimes beyond the limits of what can be deemed normal); that I am not just a yes person. That I will not just make you look like Spock because that’s the brow trend that is “in” right now (in Iran mainly but still)!
But today, when I met Emily, a 29 year old young lady who should have her whole life ahead of her, I felt even more deeply about creating the best pair of brows I can. She has a form of breast cancer, metastatic stage 3 to be exact, and she found out literally about 3 weeks ago. In the weeks since having found out, she has already sourced wigs, started the process of freezing her eggs and embryo’s, researched everything there is to know about the implications of the harshest and most severe forms of chemotherapy (which she will be undertaking in a matter of weeks) and also sought to find a microblader to provide her with a pair of brows that will last her through the process of losing her hair which she has been advised is essentially a forgone conclusion. In short, she is a fucking miracle.
Now, I know that I make this sound so incredibly everyday. But genuinely, this is how she came in today. With her head held high and not a seed of doubt in her mind about her ability to get through what she is about to embark upon. I asked her a series of questions before we started in order to ascertain whether I felt she was sound of mind enough to undergo the procedure (I wanted to make sure she wasn’t pinning all her follicle related hopes on my brows) and by the end of a suitably inspiring chat we were ready to start her treatment.
What I can tell you people is this. This woman made an everlasting impression on me today. I felt like I needed to come on here and write it down, a memoir of how today’s encounter went, so that we can look back on this account over the years to come, and I have promised her that we will share it together; that I have every confidence that she will be here for a long while yet, and that I look forward to her knocking on my proverbial door for her brows for decades to come.
Emily, this blog post is for you, thank you for giving me the permission to write it, your generosity knows no bounds. I salute you and your insurmountable courage and I look forward to seeing you again and again and again
London Brow Clinic