Waxing poetic


As the weather gets warmer here at the beach, it’s about that time when you start thinking about a serious bikini wax! I am not a particularly hairy girl in the nether regions, but I do like a coiffed and tidy tuft for the summertime. Sometimes I like no tuft at all. It depends on my mood when I arrive for my appointment at the salon.  

For years I made the trek to the beauty supply store and bought all of my own supplies to wax myself. I had tried those cream depilatories like Nair and Neet, only to find out I was allergic and would break out in hives. What can I say? I’m a delicate flower.

I also tried the dreaded shaving of the bikini area.




Never again!

I daubed on the shave cream and ran my razor in the direction of the hair growth until it was gone. Rinsed, patted and thought “Wow! That was soooo easy!” A few hours later the itching and burning started. I ran for the loo, wrestled my pants down and saw the scariest thing a female can see. My pubic area was covered in tiny pustules and everywhere I had glided my razor was angry, red and throbbing. It took weeks to heal and looked like I had developed some flesh eating disease. I was mortified! A razor has never touched my delicates again! Hats off to you ladies that can just shave down there!

Like I said, I did my own waxing at home for many years before succombing to the allure of just settling down on the table to let a professional work her magic. But years ago one of my friends, who was Mediterranean and had enough pubic hair for a dozen vaginal areas, asked me about doing her own waxing. Sure! No problem! Anyone can do it! We went to the beauty supply together and bought all of the necessary tools and plunder for her hair removal adventure. I gave her some important instructions and left to go about my day.

A few hours later I receive a panicked phone call from my friend. She was crying, hysterical and groaning in pain, “PLEASE COME AND HELP ME!!” I rushed right over.

She answered the door in a muumuu gown and then hobbled to the kitchen table to hold on for support and then lifted her dress. It was a horror show! It’s one of those times I like to remind folks of the precise directions I had left them with, but I refrained. She was obviously suffering enough as it was. She had attempted to wax her entire pubic region at one time! That’s like trying to wax your entire head in one fell swoop! I had warned her to do small strips of wax and work her way inward! SMALL STRIPS!

Tearful and terrified she asked me “What can we do?” We?! Oh crap. I had no idea. “Well Roxanne, this looks pretty serious. I think we are just going to have to amputate your vagina.” She whimpered and then laughed. She told me that next time she gets a brilliant idea that I should probably stick around to make sure she executes it properly.

I made a flat ice pack for her to hold against the wax because the longer it adhered to her skin, the warmer and stickier it became. The wax needs to be hardened in order to pull it off with as little pain as possible. It was past the point of using the muslim strips we had purchased and I didn’t bother asking her why they remained tucked away in their packaging. This was going to be painful, no matter what we did, so I was hoping the ice pack also numbed her a little too.

I warned her that this was going to hurt and she was agreeable. She was agreeable, until I started pulling the wax off, which took small bits of her skin in some places. That’s when the screaming started. The entire procedure took about 3 hours and involved many ohmygodthatstings dances, but we got it done. Her poor pubic mound looked like it had been put through a grinder, but it was most certainly hairless.

Many years later Roxanne and I had another fun adventure with hair removal while we were both in Egypt. A woman would come to our flat once a week to remove the hair on her boyfriend’s back, so Roxanne and I decided that we would have her do our legs. The tiny Egyptian woman would go into the kitchen and concoct a honey, sugar, lemon mixture on the stove. Then she would roll it into a softened ball on the marble countertop. This is what she used to remove the hair.

She had finished with Roxanne and motioned for me to get comfortable and asked me something in Arabic. Neither Roxanne or I spoke the language with any fluency, so I motioned that I only wanted my legs waxed. PLOP! She laid that warmed ball of sugar right down on my arm! No! I don’t want my arms waxed! But it was too late. She pulled the sugar mixture off to show a partially hairless arm. I was shocked! Roxanne looked perplexed, “I think we just had a communication breakdown Kakee.” Now I had no choice and had to get them both waxed so I didn’t look mangy.

Egyptians don’t like any body hair, except what’s on your head and eyebrows. They think body hair is unclean, so the fact that she wished to wax my arms was understandable. It was the weirdest feeling not to have hair on my arms, but it eventually grew back.

Whatever you contemplate as your own personal grooming habits when it comes to hair removal, always keep in mind that it’s just hair and it will always grow back. I don’t care what those commercials tell you. Until your hair follicles start to age, they will continue to work and the hair will always grow back.

This is Madeline Laughs and I’m getting ready for summer!!

About Madeline Scribes

A writer with a sense of humor. If anyone can laugh at life, it's me.
This entry was posted in All kinds of Advice and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Waxing poetic

  1. nikkifrankhamilton says:

    I am so dying over here…thank God I did not have coffee in my mouth-it would be all over my screen! I need to just be invisible and follow you around a bit…the things that you get into are hilarious!!!


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