Shaving

I gave up on shaving more than 6 months ago. Like most American women, I'd felt compelled to remove my leg and underarm hair since they began to make their appearance around age 12. By high school, I had developed an almost daily shaving routine to maintain the appearance of prepubescence. I wouldn't bare my legs or underarms without being freshly shaved. I winced at the sight and feel of stubble and cursed its persistence. Occasionally, the "stubble-problem" caused by shaving led me to dabble with depilatory creams, waxing, etc. I even considered laser hair removal to finally rid me of my hairy legs for good, but couldn't justify the expense of something so purely aesthetic.

That was until 6 months ago, when I decided to make peace with my body hair--sort of. I stopped shaving my legs completely and began to wax my underarms exclusively (no more going over my freshly waxed pits with a razor for that BABY smooth look). I consigned myself to the fact that I would have to get used to letting my hair grow in a bit between waxing sessions and to always seeing a little hair there. Initially, I decided to leave my leg hair "au naturale." After all, I'd seen many women do it, some more successfully than others. Regardless, I admired their bravery and would summon my courage from them. It took about 3 weeks for my leg hair to grow full-length. During that growing out period, I did brave the streets baring my partially hairy legs. It made me slightly anxious though and I often had to reassure myself that no one was staring at legs as they would a bearded lady.

But one day, a few weeks after my leg hair had fully grown, I lifted up my pant legs and looked my legs in the awful light of my office. My leg hair was surprising long, scraggly and wild. It seemed that after so many years of shaving, waxing and the like, my leg hair had lost itself and become wayward. I didn't have the leg hair of the women who were shaving virgins, whose hair (although noticeable) just seemed to lay ever-so-nicely on their legs--not bringing any attention to themselves. In a moment, I decided that I would do what I could to recreate the look of truly virgin legs. I would groom my leg hair to create the au naturale look that existed before shaving created a jungle of hair on my legs. To achieve this goal, I started waxing. And 3 months and counting, I've made some progress. I wax what I can tolerate and leave the rest; there's always some hair present and I'm fine with that.

Now my goal is to have softer, thinner hair rather than no hair at all. With every wax, I come closer to repairing more than 10 years of damage. I do find ripping my hair from the root to be a little brutal, but right now it's the most economical option. Perhaps in the future, I'll try something a little more humane that has a similar effect.

Deodorant that Melts Plastic

I used to keep a bottle of Mitchum roll-on deodorant in my drawer at work (in case I forgot to use deodorant in the morning--being stinky at work is grounds for termination!) until recently. A few weeks ago, the bottle started to leak an oily liquid, so I threw it out.

Today, while looking in my drawer, I saw a plastic fork with a melted tip (the part that you hold while you eat). Initially, I didn't think anything of it and just threw it away. But then, the thought dawned on me: "How did this fork melt without a heat source? Was there some secret fire in my drawer that had it out for forks but not napkins?" I had to investigate. I took the fork out of the trash and touched it. The tip was mushy and flexible. Perplexed, I gave it a whiff. It smelled of deodorant! That fresh, clean smell that's so familiar to us all. Then I began to wonder, "If this deodorant is melting plastic, what is it doing to my underarms?!!!!"

I've tried to use "natural" deodorants in the past--without much success--but I think I must try again. I can't use something that melts plastic on my skin, no matter how well it works! That's just insane.