Today I’d like to tell you all about a bizarre phenomenon that’s been happening lately with our daughter, Frida.
We named her after the artist Frida Kahlo. Though we don’t have any of her art hung in our house, I do have her biography on my nightstand, which bares an image of Salma Hayek playing the artist in the film Frida (which I highly recommend!). We also have a children’s book entitled Me, Frida, which tells the story of the artist’s time in San Francisco with her famous husband Diego Rivera, and features cartoon-ish drawings of the two of them. Our daughter Frida also has a beautiful wooden jewelry box festooned with images of the artist. That is the extent of the Frida Kahlo imagery in our home.
I tell you this to let you know that we’re not some kind of crazed Frida Kahlo fans with pictures of her everywhere. I mean it could be worse.
In any case, our daughter was somehow inspired to use my mascara to fill in the space between her eyebrows. The first time she did it I was a little scared, like, what possessed that? IS FRIDA KAHLOS’S SPIRIT PRESENT?? Then I came to my senses and I chased her around the house for photos because probably no one would believe me. I imagined myself telling the story while people looked at me like they do Crazy Eyes on Orange Is the New Black. Evidence above.
After that I tried to keep my makeup out of reach (even though part of me wanted to make it accessible so she could DIY her unibrow on the daily). Then we spent a few days at our friends’ house at the Russian River, and my makeup bag was out on the bathroom sink. She saw her chance and went for the mascara again. This was her most convincing attempt. I chased her around for a photo like a mentally unhealthy stage mom but she would not have her photo taken. This was the best I could get:
We washed it off in the shower that evening, but then the next morning as Kourosh was cooking breakfast (his first chilaquiles attempt: time consuming but delicious), she came out with yet another black unibrow. For better or worse, the girl was determined to to have a single caterpillar of hair beneath her forehead. This time the unibrow was a little rougher, but the intent was clear. And she cooperated for a photo:
But this time I couldn’t get it off. It was some strong mascara (<a href=”https://www.maccosmetics.com/product/13839/19432/Products/Makeup/Eyes/Mascara/Haute-Naughty-Too-Black-Lash”>Haute + Naughty Too Black</a> by M.A.C.), and while she cooperated with the photo, she would not do the same for my washcloth. So I said screw it, I’ll get it later and I’m not gonna lie I was amused and oblivious of how nuts we would look out in public.
We headed to Jenner on the Sonoma Coast where the Russian River meets the Pacific Ocean. It’s stunning, and if you ever go, I highly recommend Cafe Aquatica—amazing clam chowder, delicious egg salad, a view that makes you love your life, and a staff of wonderful people who are charmed by a child named Frida with a DIY unibrow. One of them heard us calling her Frida and looked at us with an expression that said either: “is something supernatural happening here?” or “are you guys borderline abusive parents who are trying to pretend your child is Frida Kahlo when it’s not even Halloween?” I’m believing the former because he had long hair, wore cutoffs with a Baja hoodie and smiled kindly.
Outside, while we ate our yummy food, we got a different reaction from a sixty-something woman who I overheard telling her friend about a sauvignon blanc workshop she’d recently attended at the JCC. Frida chased birds around the picnic table where the woman sat. The woman smiled at her then gave me a blank look that made me question my decision to let Frida out in public with a brow like that. “Oh I keep forgetting she has that makeup on her face!” I blurted. “It does look a little strange!” the woman said, in a slightly but not too judge-y way—especially compared to this. I babbled some too-long explanation.
Sigh, life with this girl named Frida. It’s pretty awesome and never predictable.