The Brazilian Incident Part 2


I don’t want to alarm anyone, but there’s a cactus growing in my vagina.

At least, that’s what it feels like.

Y’know how I got a Brazilian wax (click here if you missed that little piece of TMI and wish to catch up). And y’know how I was complaining about the beautician missing bits. And y’know how I was outraged when my friends told me you have to ASK for them to wax your butt crack. And y’know how I thought an electric shaver was the answer to my hairy situation …

Well I was an IDIOT.

Let’s start with the beautician missing bits. I got all perfectionist about my crotch afterwards and investigated every nook and crevice for stray hairs … taking a razor – very, very carefully – to every patch the beautician had “forgotten.”

I don’t think she’d forgotten. I think she was doing me a kindness, because having coarse red stubble in delicate crevices HURTS. And when it grows back in your butt crack it ITCHES.

I have no idea how men can be bothered shaving their cheeks and chins every day. I do not have the fortitude to do the same to my nethers. I am VERY slack on the beauty routine front. I don’t even own a hairdryer since DD blew up my antique one a few months ago, leaving a black halo around the bathroom power point.

My hairdresser of 20 years, the divine Mark Jones at Crown Hair, knows to always give me hairstyles that dry naturally in an acceptable fashion. I only started flossing about five years ago because my gums were receding (phwoar, such a hottie). And I look askance at anyone who cleanses and tones every night. Make-up wipes are the most genius beauty invention EVER.

That brings me to the other thing I thought would be a genius solution to the problem … that electric razor I bought.

I thought electric razors were all zzzzzt-zzzzzzt … voila, hair gone!

But they’re a bit like manual lawn mowers. You go backwards and forwards and backwards and forwards and backwards and forwards … and the lawn STILL looks a bit dodgy.

I think they work better on taut skin. I needed the electric razor to do its magic on … not … taut skin.

So I tried out the clipper attachment. Since I’m impatient, I removed the plastic comb guard from the blades to speed up the process.


So, for a few days I had grazes AND a vagina cactus.

Moving along … what I’d really like a candid Brazilian veteran commenter to tell me is: how/why the hell do you keep putting yourself through that brutal process and it’s aftermath? How frequently are you getting it done to avoid the vagina-cactus effect?

Or are there just thousands of women out there gently wincing as they walk for two weeks of every month?

Not. A. Fan.

I think Gwyneth Paltrow’s got the right idea “working a 70s vibe.” 

Bugger bikini line angst, I’ll happily to wear board shorts to the pool FOREVER.

Song of the day: Dr Hook “Walk right in”



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