I haven’t been in Miami for a week and already the battle of hair has begun. Please bury me in a nutshell and send me back to the Stone Age where hairy gorillas ruled the world. Every morning and every night, I’m plucking, shaving, waxing and repeating.
Recently Poonatz (my vagina) and I had our first Brazilian wax. Now I’m sure some of you may be wondering why I waited this long. Penis envy. Men get to grow beards in the winter, so why can’t I? Plus the thought of yanking hair out of a very sensitive area with hot wax is akin to torture in my humble opinion. But that’s okay, because being hip and fashionable is paramount over pain. Ladies, if you enjoy kissing ceilings and cursing at spa technicians, you’ll love your first Brazilian too.
My roommate in Miami has a hot wax machine. This is like leading your crack-head cousin into a bank and giving him/her the keys to your safety deposit box. Before I knew it, I was covered from head to toe in blue wax. Never one to read instructions and born with a I-can-figure-it-out mentality I failed to apply the right amount of wax and spent the entire day taking it off with an Ajax abrasive sponge – which in spa lingo means the poor man’s exfoliant.
Perhaps there’s an eye roll or two out there saying, “but Lady, what about Nair and other topical hair removal options?” Let’s just say if you dig rashes in a bottle, you’ll go gaga over Nair’s sensitive skin formula. Apparently the sensitive skin Nair is referring to means the skin of kimono dragon after 49 days in the desert sun.
Nothing spells sexy like a bunch of red bumps on your upper arms from Nair gone wild. If there’s anyone out there who would like to donate to my No-No hair removal device fund, know that God will call you Mother Theresa for your kindness.
Back to the pluck.