I Used Wak Doyok’s Beard Cream On My Brows Religiously For 2 Months. Here’s What Happened.
I’ve found myself entangled in a series of love-hate relationships with my facial features over the years, but my bond with my eyebrows could easily be deemed a saga deserving its own chapter.
Picture this: It’s 2014, and I’m channeling a blend of Evanescence-style angst and a penchant for over-plucked brows that would make even the most ardent ’90s enthusiast cringe.
My inspiration? A mishmash of edgy aesthetics, an aversion to my supposedly “masculine” features (think laterally full cheeks, a prominent jaw, short boxy chin, and deep-set thin eyes), that led to a healthy dose of Keanu Reeves comparisons that I’ve come to embrace with age.
It all began in the dimly lit bathroom of my teenage years, armed with my mother’s tweezers and a misguided quest for Mike Kuza-esque brows.
These were the classic ‘goth’ brows that would simultaneously lend me a more feminine guise. Little did I know that those late-night plucking sessions would become a ritual, a cycle of self-inflicted brow-scaping that persisted for seven long years…
Fast forward to 2021, and the landscape of beauty standards has shifted, and so has my taste in music. Gone are the days of pencil-thin arches and Amy Lee; instead, the era of full bushy brows and self-acceptance reigns supreme.
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As I scrolled through images of confident women at the Saudi Cup, flaunting their bold brows and prominent features with unapologetic pride, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy – and a spark of inspiration to begin embracing my natural, ethnic features.
But alas, years of relentless plucking had taken their toll. My once-prominent brows had been reduced to mere shadows of their former selves, lacking in both density and texture.
Desperate for a solution, I found myself skimming through the digital shelves of Shopee, scouring for a remedy to my woes…
Enter Wak Doyok’s Beard Cream – a recommendation from a friend whose own facial follicles could only be described as god-tier. Skeptical yet hopeful, I added it to my cart, crossing my fingers for a miracle.
Two days later, the awaited package arrived. Armed only with a bottle of beard cream, a complimentary spoolie from Sephora, and a glimmer of optimism, I embarked on my journey of brow rehabilitation.
I won’t sugarcoat it; the next morning didn’t greet me with the lushest brows known to man. It took about a month before I noticed any significant change. However, I’ll spare you the suspense: The results were truly transformative.
With each passing day, my brows grew bolder, more defined, more… Me.
Initially, it was the appearance of fine hairs sprouting below the arch, gradually filling in the sparse areas. But around the fifth week, something remarkable happened: My existing hairs started growing back darker and coarser.
Sure, it was a bit amusing to be using a jamu product that was typically marketed to men, but the woody, masculine fragrance it carried had a certain charm. Sometimes, as I caught a whiff of it lingering in the air, I couldn’t help but forget for a moment that I was single and not sleeping in the strong arms of some hunky dude. Thanks, Wak Doyok.
After diligently using it for two months, I was pleasantly surprised to find my eyebrows had grown back beyond my expectations. Initially aiming for elegantly full, arched brows that might still require occasional filling in, I’d actually achieved the ‘Saudi cup brows’ I so longed for.
While I’ll always look back fondly on my teenage ‘Marilyn Manson’ phase, there’s something undeniably satisfying about embracing the brows that harmonise perfectly with my facial features.
And thanks to Wak Doyok’s Beard Cream, I can confidently wear the face of my ancestors for years to come.
Who knew a drop of masculinity could work wonders for my femininity?
TL;DR: Embrace your ethnic features, stay consistent with your beauty routines, and never underestimate the power and knowledge of a man with epic facial hair.