You may be familiar with the above apparatus. Or, like myself a year ago, you may have never seen it before, as it is a tool I— with my geek-slash-granddad personal style— have little use for. But this, my friends, is an eyelash curler, and I can now vouchsafe I know most everything there is to know about it, for a few months ago I had the opportunity to spend some one-on-one time with a pink Japanese eyelash curler on the set of my last French Vogue shoot. It was a windy night and, in a studio in the 13th arrondissement of Paris, a small team of artists from all continents and climes was working to create what an internal memo dictated should be “an atypical beauty shot.” The antics involved in realizing such a vision included me getting black acrylic paint dabbed into my eye rims so I could cry black tears (which happened no problem!); biting limes while still attempting to look composed and edgy; and trying to balance thin rounds of an orange over my eyes as the fruit inevitably inched down my cheeks in a sweet and juicy exodus towards the floor.
Enter eyelash curler. Enter confusing pink contraption and the dictum from somewhere off set: Play with your eyelid. Play with my eyelid? A thing I’d never before contemplated. But it did the trick— it achieved atypicality for a thing by nature fairly typical. I left the studio that night wearing an unusually slack upper lid on my right eye— and a grin. Cause after all, one can never expect beauty to come without pain, right? Not to mention French beauty— VOGUE beauty! Neither, it seems, can one ever expect to do the expected when it comes to fast-paced—and sometimes fruity— fashion.