“One thing you might not know about me is that I am a punctual person,” Mrs Woog wrote yesterday. “This is a recent phenomenon, rearing its head about the same time that I became obsessed with the weather forecast and when I started selecting clothing based on whether it would crush or not. It is called getting old. And I am there.”
I am there too, except you can add “losing my filter” to the signs I’m getting old.
Aaaaaand, that’s my excuse for what I’m about to tell you.
I gave myself a Brazilian last night.
I expect you’re thinking, dear god let it be this sort of Brazilian …
But no, it was this sort …
I would never in my wildest dreams have expected to spend a night cross-legged on my bathroom floor smearing hot wax on my lady bits, but life tends to take me in unexpected directions.
One day it’s kayaking with dolphins, the next it’s a jar of NADS.
And so, welcome to the first – and perhaps only – HouseGoesHomeBeauty blog …
Remember your mum telling you as a teen not to shave your legs because the hairs would grow back thicker?
She’d have been much better to advise you NOT to get a Brazilian because the itchy regrowth will drive you absolutely frigging insane.
There’s some beauty truth for you.
I got my first-ever Brazilian last year. And, because I have no personal boundaries, I wrote about it for Kidspot in February (read it here).
(Quite tellingly, the post was classified in the “health/disorders” section of the website.)
The story started off like this:
“You know how Bruce Willis looks pretty awesome bald … and kinda weird with hair?
“I had my first Brazilian wax – at age 47 – last week … and … well … I’m no Bruce Willis.”
The post was mainly about how confronting it is to see your lady bits in all their glory for the first time since you were pre-pubescent. Much like the rest of you, your lady bits lose collagen as they age, which means it’s not just your face that gets a little Basset Hound-y.
I vowed never to have another full Brazilian after getting that first, shocking glimpse in the full-length mirror at the beauty salon. I decided to forevermore preserve a frontal lady garden to hide my decrepitude.
Sadly, my frontal lady garden has never regained its luxuriant titian curls after that first violent encounter with hot wax. There’s another important beauty lesson your mum should be imparting …
But back to the itching .. Scratching your lady garden in public is not a good look, so I’ve spent most of the past year shifting around uncomfortably. Why isn’t there more discussion of this awkward downside among beauty editors? Is it some sort of conspiracy, like the way no one tells you how much childbirth hurts?
It takes away the magic to realise all those Hollywood starlets are giving their nethers a thorough going over with their false nails when they think no-one is looking.
Regrowth is unavoidable when you’re waxing down there because you have to wait for the hair to grow a few milimetres after each Brazilian to give the wax something to grip onto next time. A little coarse regrowth in intimate regions is a whole lot of uncomfortable. It’s kinda like someone’s put a pineapple in your pants.
Especially when you’re a redhead. Redheads have THE coarsest pubic hair. Lucky, lucky us.
My regrowth was so uncomfortable I kept thinking I had chronic thrush so I made my doctor take endless swabs that all came back negative.
You would not BELIEVE how much money I spent on unnecessary pessaries and tests before I realised it was the bloody stubble causing the problem.
Not to mention the pain of discovering how frigging expensive regular Brazilian waxing can be.
I eventually decided, bugger it, I’m going au naturale …
That was all very well, if itchy, for a while, until I was irresistibly drawn to the waxing section of Woolies a few weeks ago.
Did you know you can buy DIY Brazilian kits at Woolies?
Oh, yes, you can!
So, for the bargain price of $12 I took home a tub of NADS Brazilian And Bikini Wax “with a sensual mango & peach scent.”
Obviously the marketing person in charge of the packaging was a man because there is NOTHING sensual about waxing your lady garden.
(I also take issue with the write off that says it gives you “clean & smooth results for weeks.” What the hell has “clean” got to do with it … but I can’t get too agitated because I’m removing my god-given pubic hair when I should be loving myself just the way I am.)
I was sure giving myself a DIY Brazilian would be the recipe for a bwahahahaha disaster blog post – and I would probably advise you not to try it after a couple of glasses of white wine at 9pm when your 10-year-old is likely to come knocking on the bathroom door wanting to know what’s taking so long in there because she wants to clean her teeth – but it turned out to be pretty freaking awesome and calamity free.
Well, “awesome” probably isn’t the right word for waxing your nethers. But it was waaaaaay cheaper and hurt waaaaaaaay less than anything I’ve had done in the salon. Not to mention the fact you get to skip having some stranger poke around your pink bits while both of you pretend it’s not really happening and discuss movies you’ve seen lately.
AND you don’t have to make an appointment, you can do it whenever you get a spare moment or 60.
AND I’ve never been happy with the finished result in a salon. It’s kinda my fault, because the beautician always asks if I’d like to check myself afterwards and I recoil and say Dear god! No!
But when I get home and shower I invariably find these furry patches the beautician has forgotten in her wax paddle travels.
And I get really pissed off that after all the pain, expense and humiliation I have to bend down and do a Gilette job on myself.
Would a porn star put up with such a shoddy job? No she would not! Would her director put up with such a shoddy job? No they would not!
But complaining to the service industry is not my strong point, so I just bitch quietly to myself.
It’s a totally different story when you’re in charge of the process, you make sure it’s done PROPERLY, no matter how long it takes.
(Mind you, it wasn’t the epic process I thought it would when I first took a look and muttered “Gawd there’s a lot of hair down there!”)
I also learned a few things for next time: a hand mirror would come in handy to avoid getting a middle-aged crick in your neck from hunching over your clacker for an hour; waxing is best done on nights when your ex has the kids; and, when waxing your labia majora, always remember to hold it away from your labia minora as separating the two when the wax dries isn’t fun times.
In conclusion: while I haven’t solved the itchy regrowth problem, I’d definitely go the DIY waxing route again rather than forking out for a salon visit.
Song of the day: Peter Allen “I go to Rio”