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| Photo by istolethetv on flicqr. |
I am told that most waxing salons can get you in at the last minute...it is sort of how they schedule. Women like me everywhere, wake up one morning, look at their sasquatch legs and overflowing bushes and realize they need to get waxed right friggen' now! No longer able to keep their eyebrows from poking them in the eyes, they call their waxing professionals, hysterical, pleading, hair removal is overdue! I usually just break down and shave. When I finally realize the dire need for hair removal, I usually have a shit load of stuff to do, and I can't make time for an appointment.
Take today for example. I was heading to the gym and noted my leg hair was getting unacceptable. I couldn't not shave as the length of it surely made it visible from across the room. Running on the treadmill would likely create a swooshing sound, as the hair from each leg, rubbed briskly against the hair of the other. Pinning it back or pony tailing was not an appropriate option. Thus, I shaved. My legs shall now be smooth and lovely for about 10 minutes, before the stubble begins to reappear. Waxing lasts for weeks!! Why the hell can't I get it together!
I have made up my mind to make an appointment in one weeks time with Nikki the super-awesome-waxer! A self-professed expert, she is an advocate of regular waxing, and sees the Brazilian, not as a burdensome- man-imposed standard on women, but an empowering sexual ritual. I admit, I am afraid. I even had nightmares about it! Really! Actual nightmares! I dreamed I was at the wax hut for my scheduled appointment, but my wax professional was waay overbooked. She had 85 clients scheduled that day. They kept politely telling me they would be right with me, as I lounged and napped in the waxing lounge. Intermittently, someone would come in and do one waxing strip, then hours would pass before they would come and do the next one. It was reminiscent of the waxing scene in the "40 Year Old Virgin". I ended up, partially waxed, leaving the establishment in an indignant huff, shouting out expletives and constructive criticism as I left!
I have been conciously timing my hair growth...figuring the exact point that my hair is at critical mass. I am going to do my legs (which is no big deal, I have done this a number of times, sporadically before), my bikini...maybe brazillian if Nikki can talk me into it (it just sounds twisted and painful...maybe I will just do the Mexican Tortilla chip), and I am going to consult about my underarms. I would love to not shave them so often! They grow at the pace of male facial hair after all these years of shaving. I threaten my husband that I am so tired of shaving here, that I will let it grow and just braid it. It amuses me how much body hair on women can turn a man off.
I tried to wax my armpits...once. I was pretty young...maybe 18. I purchased a drug-store wax kit...and vaguely remember having to heat it up. I had never been waxed before so my technique was improvised. I slathered my entire armpit with the warm, waxy goo. This was my first mistake. Waxers generally only do small patches of hair at a time. I pressed the cloth strip to my armpit and started to pull (you are supposed to pull rapid-bandaid-style). The pain quickly overwhelmed me. Because one hand was stuck over my head, I was unable to pull the skin of my armpit taught, which increases the comfort of the proceedure. I spent a long and painful hour, slowly ripping the wax and hair from my armpit. I had no choice but to slowly torture myself, lest I be covered in wax for the rest of my life. It took many long years before I would consider waxing again.
I am going to call for my appointment ahead of time...which should virtually guarantee I get one. I'll report back on the results and experience in an upcoming post. Wish me luck!
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