Saturday, May 23, 2009
Waxing poetic....about waxing
For a long time, I resisted the Waxer. For several reasons, including low pain threshold, a vague sense of feminist outrage, and being a cheapskate. I am a woman, dammit! I have pubic hair!
But eventually, I became curious. Many of my close girlfriends confided that they liked how it felt, being hairless down there. It wasn't just about pleasing a man or giving the illusion of being prepubescent. Educated, sexually-empowered women were going bare. I was already toying with the idea when the guy I was seeing mentioned he thought it was hot, so I decided to go for it.
I made an appointment at a salon in my neighborhood run by middle-aged Polish women. I was nervous and asked a lot of questions. Once I was pantless and on the table, it suddenly bothered me that I didn't know my waxer's name. I mean, she was looking directly at my lady parts and about to cover them in hot wax. I needed to feel like we knew each other, at least superficially. So I grabbed her hand en route to my bikini line and said, "What's your name?"
She stared at me, confused, then said: "Dorothy."
"Ok," I said. "I'm Katie. Nice to meet you. Go ahead."
I have to admit, I didn't love how it looked at first. My "vagnino" somehow seemed less dignified. I was worried it was uglier than average. But the boyfriend seemed to approve, so I made another appointment a month later. When I came over afterward, he dumped me. I was outraged. And every time I went to the bathroom, there was a reminder of him. My hairless crotch was mocking me.
For the next two years, I stayed away and did my own maintenance. I got no complaints, but recently, I decided to give it another go. My new boyfriend didn't pressure me at all, but I thought it might be a fun way to mix things up. So I made an appointment at Milano Salon, which is less than a block away from my apartment in Allston.
Let me now sing the praises of their waxer, Joan. The woman is awesome. Friendly, but no nonsense. And just chatty enough to distract you from the pain. She gives good, clear directions ("Lift your ass!") and is happy to share amusing anecdotes too, about bizarre shapes she has been asked to create (Celtic crosses, lightning bolts, initials).
So I've come full circle (full bush?) from not waxing, to waxing, to not waxing, and now waxing again. I think women should do whatever makes them feel comfortable and sexy -- it's definitely not wise to get a Brazilian for someone else's benefit. No one is worth that much pain. NO ONE.
This is a picture I found on Google Images, searching under "Brazilian waxing." Let me just say that I would definitely not allow this man anywhere near my privates!