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" A woman&amp;#039;s eyebrows do the work. The eyeballs and lids get all the credit, but for what? They wink, they cry, they squint. Easy. The brows, though, are the underappreciated assistants, the ripe, unruly foils for the eyeballs&amp;#039; moist vacancy. They offer exclamation to a smirk or a glance. They telegraph derision, approval, acceptance, mischief -- and they can switch between any of these with the slightest movement. But only if a woman lets them run free a little. Overpluck and you become expressively impotent. Take Shannen Doherty: She&amp;#039;s only ever looked surprised, drugged, or interested in having you killed. Like a sleepy alien. Eyebrows should be slightly -- stay with me here -- feral. They should fall somewhere on the Hairiness Spectrum between Jennifer Aniston and Frida Kahlo -- very early Frida Kahlo. Basically, Jennifer Connelly in everything she&amp;#039;s ever done, starting with Labyrinth. Eyebrows have gotten bushier lately. Look at the woman across the bar. Look at your wife. I have no idea what it means or whether Marie Claire has done a story on it, but they&amp;#039;re out there, like millions of hungry caterpillars getting fatter. And more emotionally nuanced. And better looking. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.esquire.com/style/grooming/a2073/esq0307eyebrows/>