The Art of DIY Face Threads: A Journey of Trial, Error, and Resilience
There’s a strange kind of addiction that comes with taking your beauty routine into your own hands. It starts with curiosity, moves through a little fear, and lands somewhere between “I can’t believe I’m doing this” and “I’m already planning my next session.” That’s the place I found myself in recently, on my second attempt at placing PDO threads into my own face. And let me tell you, it was a learning curve—steep, humbling, and absolutely worth talking about.
My first experience had been, to put it kindly, a mess. Every thread I placed under my eyes came out. The screw threads—those 30-gauge, 25mm ones—just wouldn’t stay put. One screw actually lost its tip, which I kept shaving off without realizing. The ones I tried in my lips? They came out after the first day, so I redid them, and they came out again the next day. It was frustrating, but I also learned something crucial: if a thread doesn’t want to go in, if it’s fighting you, don’t force it. Just start somewhere else, shift the angle, or move it over a bit. That simple rule would have saved me a lot of trouble.
What Goes Wrong When You Rush
I had such a busy day that second time, and I was so excited to try again that I rushed. And rushing in this game is a recipe for regret. I applied threads in all the places I wanted to treat, and none of them worked out. The pattern was telling: the threads didn’t come out until I put moisturizer on. And then—swear to you—they slid right out as if they were never in.
One of the things that did hold steady were the screws I placed in the bone-dense area. Those stayed in really well. But the smaller threads? I have a prominent scar near my mouth, and a lot of tissue missing there from an old injury. I placed the small ones into that area, and they all came out. The reason, I later realized, is typical for these thinner threads: you have to twist them and pull back the white casing. Someone told me this afterward, but by then, the damage was done.
Lessons in Technique and Patience
On a more positive note, I did manage to work on my back area recently using the Karen X technique. I haven’t seen a huge difference yet, but I did the high-on technique the night before, and I’m optimistic. There’s so much I want to do: fade these dark spots, smooth out my skin, soften the lines here and there. It’s going to be a process—a long one—and I figure, why not tape it all and share what I’m learning?
So there I was, ready for round two. I had a fresh delivery: 30-gauge, 25mm screw threads and the tiny PDO mono threads for fine work. I planned to use the little ones around my eyes, but I thought, why not try one screw thread on my eyebrow? I numbed the area with cold, because I’m a bit of a baby when it comes to pain, and I started.
The Screw That Went Wrong
I aimed the gauge down and focused on the outer eye area. But the thread just didn’t want to go in. I pushed harder, and then—oh, Jesus—I saw what I’d done. The wire, the string, was hanging out of my skin. I had somehow turned it in a way that was wrong, and the whole thing was a mess. I had to push up and pull it out, disinfect a pair of scissors, and cut the string off. It was terrifying.
My skin is tough. I have a lot of scar tissue from old injuries, including one from a bacteria I caught in Bali that ate away half of my lip. That left a scar running upward, and another scar from my days of active addiction. My mouth has always been smaller on the left side because of it. So getting needles through that dense tissue is a challenge. After that failure, I decided to abandon the screws for the eye area and stick to the tiny mono threads, focusing on the inner part of my eye where I wanted a lift.
Finding What Works
The next thread went in so easily, it surprised me. No resistance, no pain. I cleaned everything up, disinfected, and tried again. For that one, the screw went right in, no problems. I pushed it up and in, and when I pulled the needle out, there was no blood, no thread—it was up in there, exactly where it needed to be. That little wrinkle I always get right there? It might finally have a chance to smooth out.
I tell you, this is addicting. I was so busy that night, thinking I would just do it tomorrow. But I’m going on a trip to the Bahamas at the end of the month, and I don’t want any bruises. I already have one bruise from my first attempt, and that’s upsetting. Who wants bruises? I don’t know how to avoid them entirely, and if I have to do this every week and end up looking like I got into a fight, it’s just not worth it. So I’m learning, figuring out what works for me and what doesn’t.
The Terrifying Under-Eye Area
I had already worked on the outer part of my eye the day before, so now I needed to do the inner part. But I was terrified to go under my eye because of that bump I’d created earlier. I cleaned everything up, took a deep breath, and used only the tiny mono threads under there. To my amazement, I couldn’t feel a thing. They slid right through the wrinkles as if my skin was butter.
I always used to watch these videos and think, “Oh my god, I’ll never do this. People are insane.” And here I was, doing it myself. You literally don’t feel anything under there with these tiny threads. I did three, definitely avoiding any screws because I didn’t want to chance another bruise. My eye was still a little swollen from the previous day, but just being able to try and get something under there—I was excited. It was a start.
The Lip: A Painful Finale
For the grand finale, I had screws placed in my upper lip area, and I wanted to do one more set of lines. I had really bad nerve damage in my lips from the old Bali injury, so I knew this would be tough. I numbed as best as I could, but when I tried to insert the screw, it hurt so badly I thought I couldn’t go through with it. I literally started drooling from the pain. But I pushed through. The thread went in, crinkled a little, and I knew it was going to bleed.
I was afraid to do the top. After I finished, I saw a little string hanging out again. Darn it. Two more to go, and then I was done for the night. I cleaned the scissors, disinfected again, and forced myself to finish. The last one looked weird—the string wasn’t stuck inside properly. I figured that one wasn’t a good one.
The Final Takeaway
Everyone I know thinks I’m nuts. I can only do this with you guys, and whoever runs across my channel. But here’s the truth: this is a process. It’s messy, painful at times, and full of mistakes. But every failure teaches you something. If a thread doesn’t want to go in, don’t force it. Twist it properly. Pull back the white casing. Don’t rush. And above all, respect the pain—it’s your body telling you something.
I don’t know if all these threads will hold. I don’t know if I’ll have bruises tomorrow. But I know that I’m learning, step by step, what works for my unique skin, my scars, and my history. And that’s a journey worth sharing.