Hair Removal Methods That Are In Violation of the Geneva Convention

Being of the female persuasion, I have found it necessary to “keep the lawn mowed” as it were. There are loads of products aimed to deprive you of your hard earned cash in an attempt to relieve you of body hair in a pain free manner. Like politicians, these companies are full of spin, lies and damned lies. Allow me to elaborate on a few:

Waxing

This procedure has you placing not quite boiling wax upon your delicate lady parts where the wax adheres to the offending hairs. You then place a strip of muslin over the waxed area and quickly rip the strip off. Ideally the strip should come off easily with all the applied wax and hundreds of problem hairs. Easy Right? Oh, yes, it’s very easy. Pain free, however, it is not.

My first waxing experience was at the tender age of 17. My mother had a bucket o’ wax in the medicine cabinet of our bathroom. Since I had a swimsuit event upcoming, I thought I’d give waxing of the bikini area a go. It was a cold wax that I could apply with the included stick and remove after a few seconds with my fingers. Although I had never had a formal lesson on waxing, I was 17 and therefore smarter than any aesthetician. I smartly bent over and applied the wax to my entire offending “area”. All was going so very well until I attempted to stand to take a breather before removing the wax. I had, in effect, glued myself together at the hip making standing up nearly impossible. “No problem” I thought to myself. I’ll just rip off the wax now and call it a day. Ha! Foolish mortal! The wax does eventually rip off….in pathetically small pieces…taking a layer or two of epidermis with it. Since I’m not one to self torture in silence, my mother came running at the sound of blood curdling screams. Opening the bathroom door she found me hinged at the waist, pants around my ankles, fingers coated in blobs of bright blue wax, with little droplets of blood appearing on my pasty white skin. She did what any mother of a stupid teenager does….she laughed. I don’t remember much after that. It’s been a decade or two and I no longer have blue wax around my goods, so I can only assume that with my mother’s assistance, it eventually came free.

Laser Hair Removal:

This procedure uses small bursts of directed light/heat at the hair follicle causing it to stop hair growth. This process works best on darker hair and takes up to 6 sessions to have complete results.

I’m guessing that my ethnic heritage is not only English, but also Yeti since I have hair on my body that even Big Foot would envy. My arm pits were especially problematic and I was tired of shaving every other day. Enter Laser Hair Removal. I have a friend who did it for a great price and promised it was “no big deal”. I should have re-thought this statement when I was waiting for him to come into the room. I was chatting up his assistant and asked where she’d had her hair removal done. She gently smiled and said that she hadn’t had it done yet because it looked to painful. So there I was, arm pinned above my head, wearing the equivalent of welding goggles while a man armed with what looked like (in my mind) a crème brulee torch came at one of the most sensitive parts of my anatomy. I did what any self respecting woman did. I smiled and acted like I couldn’t feel a thing. Meanwhile I was sweating like a whore in church while he zapped me approximately 80 times with a laser. I can only describe it as being snapped in your arm pit with a rubber band repeatedly by a really mean 6^th grader. I now know why they make you pay for the whole procedure up front. If I wasn’t so damned cheap, I don’t know that I would have come back let alone let him attack the other side. But come back I did…..5 more times. It was effective. I shave about every 6 weeks for the 5 or 6 mutant hairs that like Godzilla, survived the nuclear heat.

I don’t know why we women put up with the ridiculous amount of cost and discomfort to stay hair free. But I’m the proud owner of a waxing pot and I am quite adept at ripping out bikini hairs in a sumo squat in my bathroom. I guess I’m a sucker for punishment.