Years ago, on vacation with some friends in Seattle, I was introduced to the wonder and brilliance that is a typical Japanese mega-mart (Uwajimaya, I love you!), and especially to their cryptically labeled snack foods. Do I want to eat something promising me "fresh lady delights"? If it's got a kawaii cartoon character on it and comes in a gallon jug, yes, I probably do.
After several trips to Uwajimaya to replenish our dwindling late-night snack supplies, some of us just began tossing random items into the cart, with not even a cursory glance at the label to figure out the intended flavor. When one of our friends suggested we slow down and actually try to pick some junk food we could recognize, my friend Steve uttered some magic words. He took a long pause, collected himself, and said: "Dude. Just trust the Japanese on this. They know what they're doing."
(It's true, by the way. I have not yet found a Japanese junk food that I do not find highly enjoyable.)
Thus, when I saw the Fiberwig mascara display at Sephora a few weeks ago, I had to trust the Japanese on this. I'd heard great things about these fiber mascaras so popular in Japan, read the review on Lipstick Is My Crack, and annoyed a makeup artist friend with my constant badgering: "but will I finally have eyelashes??!?!", I demanded to know.
This stuff is magic. I was formerly all about the Diorshow (oy, $24+ per tube!), and Fiberwig has converted me. Diorshow tends to run and smear at the slightest touch of moisture (sweat, a light mist, snowflakes), and the Fiberwig staaaaaays. Proven by my accidental four-mile jaunt through a rainstorm last week: I came home soaked, but with freakishly perfect eyelashes.
It does not thicken (or "volumize", in that fancy selling-expensive-beauty-products language), but it lengthens the hell out of my short stubby eyelashes. It's also superblack, which is very good for my dark brown hair, but understandably not for everyone. It's a little weird to put on and take off- this whole process of creating little mascara tubes around my eyelashes took a few practice runs, but now I'm good at getting the tips and corners without smearing mascara across my face. And yes, its $22. Which is hella expensive, but I close my eyes and chant "but it's cheaper than Diorshow!" over and over until I calm down.
Trust the Japanese indeed.