Walking on Sunshine Korean Eyebrow Embroidery review: Can a hair salon ace the microblading process?

Walking on Sunshine Korean Eyebrow Embroidery review: Can a hair salon ace the microblading process?

New in town

Text: Emily Heng

Blame it on my own warped sense of logic, but I'm inclined to take big swings when faced with risky situations. Why trim my hair when I can hack six inches off, and add highlights? Same goes for injectables — my first foray into aesthetic treatments constituted not just fillers, but Botox and Ultherapy, too. Perhaps some of you might be familiar with this particular type of education: to learn how to swim, simply fling yourself in the deep end.

And so, it seemed only reasonable to agree to a microblading session (a first for me, I might add) provided by a renowned hair salon. Never mind that this was a new service for said company, too, and that eyebrow embroidery was notorious for churning up tattooed, overly-blocky arches. Ignore the fact that there could be possible downtime and/or dire consequences. In the words of Amy Dunne from Gone Girl, I was fu*king game. Without further ado, here's a blow-by-blow account of what went down.

The premise

It's likely that you've heard of Walking on Sunshine in some capacity. The Korean beauty salon takes up a sprawling space on the upper floors of Orchard Central; a salon cum café space brimming with Instagram-ready fixtures and apparel. Beauty buffs can make an appointment to experience a full day of pampering — beyond hair styling and colouring services, there are also facials and mani-pedis, all of which can be enjoyed with hearty brunch and coffee. It's a comprehensive menu as it is, made broader with their new array of offerings ranging from lash extensions to microblading.


The procedure

To start things off, I was treated to a complimentary drink from the café section. I opted for tea, which was served to me in a delicate mug that I could bring with me to the treatment room. Perhaps not the best idea, seeing how someone would soon be depositing pigments onto my skin using, well, blades. But I appreciated the sentiment all the same. My technician, Ice, got straight to it, where she sketched a gauge of how my arches would look like based on my preferences (full; natural; nothing like Crayon Shin-Chan). Once I had agreed to her design, liberal coats of numbing cream were applied to my brows, where it was left to sit for 25 minutes.

This is where the tea came in handy, I suppose. Soon after, she inclined my chair back and whipped out a handheld tool that vaguely resembled a tattoo gun. Eep. I'm pleased to report, however, that I didn't experience any pain or discomfort during the process. There was a slight stinging that accompanied each deft, sure stroke, but it was soothing enough that I found myself nodding off in a matter of minutes.


The pay-off

I'm not blessed in the brow department, so it was disorientating to spot full, hair-like strokes in lieu of my sparse arches. I was given a comprehensive aftercare booklet, and advised not to sweat profusely or go swimming for a day. This is to ensure that my skin doesn't scab too early, so as to retain a stronger pigment. I was also given a moisturising gel to apply to the area to accelerate healing - though I'm not sure any was needed in the first place. I experienced minimal redness, and none of the too-dark, chunky arches typically seen from eyebrow-embroidery-sessions-gone-wrong. Call it luck, or, well, a well-honed sense of instincts which allowed me to suss out Ice's stellar technical abilities in a pinch. Or perhaps Walking on Sunshine is just that good — I'll leave you to decide.