It was a late Monday evening, and my studio was mostly dark except for my area. It had been a long day, but I wasn’t any less excited. My last client of the day had just arrived—a woman in her early thirties, eager for her dream brows. Despite the hour, her excitement was infectious. I, however, was battling exhaustion and a nagging sense of anxiety. As a relatively new PMU artist, each appointment was a test of my skills.
We discussed her desired look, and I meticulously mapped out her brows. The quiet of the studio felt almost oppressive, but I pushed my nerves aside and put some music on my phone before beginning the procedure. After the first full pass, I wiped away the excess pigment, expecting to see the delicate powdery look of her new brows. Instead, my heart stopped. The entire outline was gone, wiped away as if it had never been there. Panic surged through me. This was literally in the book of all-time PMU artist's worst fears.
"Excuse me for a moment," I said, forcing a smile. As soon as I was out of sight, I rushed to the bathroom in a panic. My mind was racing, and I was freaking out! Who can I call? What can I do? Am I doing this wrong? My hands were shaking as I splashed cold water on my face, trying to quell the rising tide of fear that I was messing this up. What if I had ruined her brows? What if it didn’t stick at all? I took several deep breaths, trying to gather my thoughts. I had to stay professional, find a solution, and not let my client see my panic.
Returning to the studio, I forced a calm demeanor. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her concern evident. "Yes, just needed to take a quick potty break, sorry about that," I lied smoothly. She accepted my answer and looked calm and content.
Looking closely at her brows, I realized my mistake: I had used a pigment that was too light or too close to her skin tone. As a new PMU artist, I hadn’t fully grasped that the first pass often looks faint, especially with lighter pigments. Switching to a slightly darker pigment, I carefully continued the procedure. With each pass, the brows began to take shape, and the strokes became more visible. My confidence slowly returned as I saw the transformation unfold. By the end of the session, her brows looked stunning. She was thrilled with the result, and I felt an overwhelming sense of relief and accomplishment.
This experience taught me an invaluable lesson about patience and problem-solving under pressure. The nightmare I had faced turned into a powerful reminder that even in our most terrifying moments, perseverance and dedication to our clients can lead to success. As a new Permanent makeup artist, I learned to trust the process and my skills, emerging stronger and more resilient.
Anonymous: Permanent Makeup Artist’s Nightmare!
Comments