It’s nearly summer
– or as I like to call it, ”the season of torture.” Oh sure,
there’s sun and fun. But there are also shorts and bathing suits.
And for those, we women torture ourselves in an effort to remove
most of the hair from our bodies.
It’s nearly summer – or as I like to call it, ”the season of torture.” Oh sure, there’s sun and fun. But there are also shorts and bathing suits. And for those, we women torture ourselves in an effort to remove most of the hair from our bodies.
As soon as the weather warms up, so does my razor. But I hate the hassle of shaving every day. Oh, I’ve tried those lotions that supposedly make leg hair less noticeable, but I must have mutant, lotion-resistant leg hair because they don’t work.
And let’s not even start on how bad I am at shaving. Shaving usually leaves my legs covered in tiny swatches of toilet paper that I use to stem the bleeding. I don’t know if it’s the razor or me, but one of us is not coordinated enough to use sharp objects on skin.
So this year, I was determined to do something different. Something that would remove the hair, leave my skin smooth and, most importantly, allow me to toss out my razor.
I tried waxing first. I’ll be upfront about this: I will never wax again. I don’t know who invented waxing, but that person was one sick puppy. Basically, hot wax is applied to the body parts you want to ”de-hair.” Then, strips of cloth are put over the wax. And then the strips are ripped from your body, along with the hair and, hopefully, none of your skin.
Please. This is torture. Pure torture. It’s worse than wearing thong underwear, for Pete’s sake. You cannot imagine the pain, unless perhaps you’ve had your leg sawed off without benefit of anesthesia.
And no, I don’t think I’m exaggerating.
I cannot even imagine the pain that comes from waxing other, more delicate parts of my body. And I can promise you that I will never, ever experience it. Never. Ever. Not in a million years. Not for a million dollars. I have banned waxing from my life.
So I decided to try a depilatory. Unlike waxing, a depilatory is just some chemical goop that you smear on and then wipe off with a washcloth. How hard could that be? There was no heating, no cloths, no skin ripped off my legs and no shaving cuts.
Or so I thought.
You see, I have what my doctor refers to as ”the most sensitive skin he’s seen for a long time.” Dyes, perfumes and most soap cannot come in contact with any part of my body. Yet somehow, in my zeal to remove the hair from my legs and my armpits, I thought applying a strong chemical would be a good plan. And did I mention I didn’t do a spot test for allergies first. No, I just smeared this yellow, smelly gunk all over my legs and under my arms.
And then I waited four minutes like the instructions said. And during those four minutes, my armpits began to tingle. And not in a good way. No, they were tingling in an oh-good-lord-my-armpits-are-on-fire kind of way.
After rinsing, applying ice and then cold washcloths, I looked at the damage. Red, swollen armpits, burning like the fire of a thousand suns, but completely devoid of any hair. Oh sure, I couldn’t lower my arms for a day or two, but that hair stayed away for a week. Frankly, I think it was afraid to come back.
But in the end I’ve decided to warm up the razor. Sure I might spend the summer with my legs covered in toilet paper strips, but at least I can lower my arms.
