An Epic Tale of Eyebrows.
Please also disregard my inability to spell ^.^; I was rather excited.
Mr. Black, a raven, has placed himself beside the box and an accompanying white package, which I assume contains a blank head.
A glimpse at the minimally styled, but ever-so-functional, inner box.
The mysteries begin to reveal themselves.
Behold, I give you, firstly, ten miniature toes!
Mr. Black compares his feet with those of the new arrival.
Beyond the green cushion.
I discover that the blank head is in the main box, which makes me very curious as to the white package.
The contents of the white package: two pairs of beautiful eyes. Buddy-doll does not even sell eyes!
I think they included these to make up for some unnecessary shipping fees that I paid.
I am extremely grateful to have them :-D
Sexy boots and cards.
The elegant Mars head.
Wigs.
I confess, there is a reason why I took careful pictures of all the extras. The reason is slightly tragic.
Having by now had my first glimpse of my new doll, I was, of all things, trying assiduously to avoid looking at him.
As though his face would magically fix itself, if I gave it enough time.
Something left me completely cold.
I had requested a custom face-up. I sent Buddydoll a very clear picture of what I wanted, using a lightly photoshopped version of their own pictures, and included a list of the changes I made.
They said they could do the face-up I had requested.
But the face-up I received looked very different.
It is by no means a completely unattractive face-up, but I had such a definite idea of how he was supposed to appear, that I could hardly stand to look at him.
When I tried the blond wig on him, the change in his appearance put me seriously Out Of All Good Humour.
I then took his head off, and began to contemplate drastic, uncharted measures.
(Yes, I did flip out a bit ^.^; )
My first doll had revealed her name to me the instant I saw her face.
This person would not take to a name.
I felt such despair that I became brave. I did research on DoA and began to alter his face-up.
In my panic, I turned the bathroom into an art studio.
(What?? Good God, why the bathroom!? It was convenient... and I cleaned thoroughly afterwards... *mumbles excuses*)
For the next six hours, I was engaged in trying to make him look tolerable (to me, anyway).
I had so hoped that I would be able to practice face-ups on the blank head before attempting anything like this.
But finally, well... I freely admit that the company face-up photographed several hundred times better.
At least now, however, his eyebrows are approximately the silly shape that they need to be, and I can love him as he deserves.
And I discovered that his name is Marlowe.
* * *
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