Anyone in a long term relationship will be totally aware that eventually, all the illusions of perfection we initially seek to maintain become a thing of the past. Unfortunately for him, the main guy in my life is more than aware that I eat like a pig, swear like a sailor and fart like a highland cow. However, there is one illusion that I, and I’m sure many other women, try to maintain. This is the illusion that I just happen to have a completely hair-free downstairs.
I don’t know why this seems to matter so much to me. No one has ever expressly told me that laminate flooring is way better than carpet (or a shag-pile, whatever). And I’m not even going into all the arguments that I’ve been indoctrinated by the porn industry or brainwashed by glossy-mags. This is just a personal preference (and I have nothing against those who embrace the full bush). Yet this preference, for some reason, is to me incredibly important.
Yet it’s such a stressful activity! It doesn’t matter what the Veet adverts say, I’m yet to be convinced that a hair-free life is a care-free life. And this isn’t just based on wild speculation; this, ladies, is based on years of research.
Name any hair removal treatment and I can guarantee that I’ll have been there, done that, got the ingrowing hair to prove it. Home wax strips were perhaps the most traumatic of these. Promising me bits as smooth as one of Joey Tribbiani’s chat-up lines, the end result was more reminiscent of a different line; ‘GEORGIE DOESN’T SHARE PUBES!’ Not only did the wax strips refuse to work, leaving me covered in a sticky green goo, but you got all the pain of a professional wax, without the actual hair-removal aspect. They just wouldn’t budge. I can imagine home-waxing being very successful as a method of torture, and can only imagine that the people who buy these more than once are planning on using them in some sadistic revenge act (probably on the person who recommended home waxing in the first place).
Professional waxing was more effective (i.e. hairs were actually removed) however the embarrassment of hearing the words “knees up legs apart, oh, and this might hurt a tad” was certainly not worth the £25 and half hour of earth (or vagina) shattering pain.
Shaving is an option, if you can be bothered to contort your body in a usually now-cold-cos-you’ve-been-in-there-so-long shower just to make sure you get every last lurker. But this is still not without its health and safety risks. I once purchased a razor branded as a ‘bikini-trimmer’ which very nearly led to my circumcision. Proceed with caution on that front.
Creams can be fairly effective, though very few are actually branded as being for your lady-garden. This always poses the question as to whether I want something suitable for my tash (dark-haired girls, you hear me on this, right?) also putting down there. There seems to be a big difference between the two and I’m not sure that mix and match seems totally appropriate.
If you were expecting a solution to this issue by the end of this post, you’re about to be disappointed. If you have a solution, please by all means comment and tell me. If you’re keeping this solution to yourself, the whole of womankind is now simultaneously shunning you.
I’m not sure why I dedicate so much time to the illusion of hairlessness, but I suppose if it makes you feel comfortable then it’s worth it. Call it fashion, fetish or just feeling tidy, I can’t see a bush in my briefs any time soon, so let’s just cross our fingers for a less aggressive method of maintenance to arise soon.
Image sources
fitmommydiaries.blogspot.com
memeblender.com