Inevitably, this will happen just before a hot date. Or an important job interview.
Because you bought completely the wrong colour, and then piled it on with a trowel.
Basically, you just paid £50 to look like a burns victim.
After 20 minutes on the elliptical machine you look like your face is melting off.
Leaving people wondering if you got your makeup done by a toddler.
Then further emphasising the resultant spermy shape with an eyebrow pencil that is at least two shades too dark.
Because the hairdresser convinced you it would look brilliant.
And ending up with half of your hair stuck to your face.
But it just makes people think you’ve got conjunctivitis.
And ending up with one white arm, a patchy orange face, and a dodgy brown smear up your back.
Not only are you still hairy, now you’re also covered in sticky molten wax.
Making your blink furiously, and ruining your entire makeup look.
So they start working their way off half-way through the night, and you end up with one stuck to your cheek.
Which you achieved at home with a bottle of Sun-In Spray (maximum strength).
And ending up looking more like like Groucho Marx.
You wake up looking like an angry panda.
And losing so much hair trying to get it out that you worry you’re going to end up with a bald patch.
Until you notice the distinctive, and nauseating, smell of burnt hair…
You end up with a cluster of angry razor bumps that look suspiciously like herpes sores. Not that you’d know.
Leaving you looking less supermodel, and more ‘muddy tiger’.
And ending up taking off a layer of skin/hair.
But inexplicably makes your face glow bright white in the photos on Facebook the next day.
In a waterproof mascara necessitating situation.
Until one day you catch yourself in a mirror, and realise it makes you look like you’re in drag. As someone’s grandma.
Leaving you completely repellent to all other humans for at least the next 72 hours - no matter how many showers you take.
Which nobody bothers tell you about. So you walk around for half the day looking like a sloppy mess.
You’re so embarrassed about how bad it is, you pretend to the hairdresser that someone else did it while you were passed out at a party.