May. 28th, 2005

pixiecrinkle: (Default)
I have finally made it to the end of my ordeal.

See, since the dresses for my sister's wedding are strapless, and I tend to have 5 o'clock shadow under my arms by about 2 pm, I decided to try getting my pits waxed.

In general, I don't buy into most culturally mandated hair removal rules for women. I really don't usually care if my legs are shaved or not, for instance. But I'm not a fan of pit hair. After several years of forcing myself to get over it, I can deal with other people's. But I can't stand my own.

So, I dutifully stopped shaving for a week, then went in two weeks ago to our local Aveda Institute to give it a go. At one point, I had two women inspecting my hairy pits from a distance of about 2 inches. It was weird. And weirder still, they deemed my hair not long enough to wax. We tried a few strips, and I found out it's not as painful as I expected, but it was a no go. They told me to keep growing and return in a week.

Unfortunately, I was booked last weekend with shower stuff, so I had to wait until today. I walked in with three weeks growth and felt grotesque. I felt even more so when it turned out that a young man would be my waxer--no reason for that, but yet, that was my gut reaction. However, he immediately put me at ease when he told me he'd had his armpits waxed and he didn't think it was as bad on the pain scale as getting his chest done.

OK, I thought, I can deal with someone who's done this before.

And so he waxed and pulled, waxed and pulled. We chatted about our common neighborhood and ridiculous real estate prices and he told me he and his boyfriend are buying a condo in a building I've been considering. Wax and pull, wax and pull. It's beginning to seem a bit like a weird variation of the Karate Kid. The first pit, which was the one they'd started two weeks ago, took about 15 minutes. The second took about 5, and a mere three strips. My waxer and I bonded over our newfound siblinghood--we both have resistant right pits, and easy left ones. He soothed me with hot towels and baby powder, and I went on my merry way, with sticky, slightly swollen armpits. Slightly swollen, utterly hairless armpits. Hooray.

I'm now off to my stitch n' bitch, wearing a tank top for the first time in three weeks. Life is good. :-)

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