Wax Me a New One

I’m off to Mexico next week, so that means one thing – time for the dreaded Bikini Wax.

I like to compare this unfortunate-but-necessary beauty ritual to visiting your therapist, OB/GYN and dentist all at the same time. I both look forward to it and dread it.

I look forward to it because, in a weird way – during the brief moments when you are not getting the hair in your private parts ripped off – it’s kind of relaxing. Laying on a massage table with soothing music in the background, listening to tinkling water from a fountain, and the lights are dim – you could almost, almost, trick yourself into thinking you were about to get a massage. That is, until you look up to see a woman between your legs with a popsicle stick full of wax. Now the experience has suddenly turned into a trip to the dentist’s office – you know pain is in your very, very near future.

Mostly what I think about when I’m laying there while the Bikini Waxer (or should I call her “Torturer”?) does her thing is how incredibly awkward it must be to be her. She chatters away, asking you about your plans for the holidays and your kids, like it’s perfectly normal to be having a polite conversation while she coats your nether regions with wax and then yanks it off, reminding me of the scene in “40 Year Old Virgin” when Steve Carell gets his chest hair waxed while screaming obscenities at the esthetician. My favorite is when the Waxer asks you to hold your leg up in the air so she can reach those hard-to-get places near your bum. It makes me feel I’m about to star in a porno or deliver a baby.

I mean, Bikini Waxers have got to see more vaginas than Baby Doctors and Tiger Woods put together.

But really, the ultimate is when she breaks out the tweezers. She starts talking about her plans to go to Disney Land while she casually inspects her work, her heard tucked between your legs like she’s working on a car engine, plucking away at all the individual hairs she missed. Makes me think she’s going to embark on a full makeover of the area with lipstick and rouge and mascara. Now that would be interesting.

I have never so much as contemplated a Brazilian – I don’t know how those ladies endure that. I think would have to undergo general anesthesia. Which gives me an idea – I think Bikini Waxers and OB/GYNs and midwives should get together to offer a special – bikini waxes while you are in labor. You are already in so much pain, and any attempts at modesty are already out the door, what’s a little more? I say, get it all over and done with in one fell swoop.

Not like you will be wearing a bathing suit any time soon, but at least you’ll be looking good in those granny panties.


6 thoughts on “Wax Me a New One

  1. Ah, the bikini wax. The only time I get them is when, like you, I must don a bathing suit or am preparing to give birth. Like it really matters. When I’m pushing out a baby AND simultaneously pooping on the table does it really matter that my vagina is hairy?

    Don’t think so.

    Have a fun hair-free vacation!

  2. I hate getting a Bikini wax but unfortunately, I need to make the sacrifice during beach season, vacations or just because I need to tame things down a bit. Shaving works if you keep on it and use new razors to avoid chafing and burn.

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