Hair Removal Season


Some of my most unbearable moments in life have been at the beach, lying in the sun on a towel, surrounded by all of my gorgeous, naturally hairless friends. It is not literally unbearable but it is extremely irritating when they examine their bikini lines openly and loudly; "Ugh, God I need a wax so badly, I'm like a she-monster." "I hate getting waxed, I just want to shave, so now I shave and it's so much better.". You bitches are killing me with this. I mean, love you to death, but please shut the fuck up and at least be aware that you had no hair to begin with, and you have a friend lying right here, trying to drink her beer in peace, for whom hair removal is an actual ongoing life challenge. For me, waxing leaves me hairless for barely a week, shaving is a god damn non starter, and the continuing, insane porn standards make hair removal the bane of my existence.

For as long as I can remember, I've been ashamed, embarrassed, confused, and generally exhausted by what I look like in my "swimsuit area". Having dark hair, light skin, and a French ancestry has ruined moments of my social life by pretty much assuring I couldn't get in the hot tub with all the other hot bitches at the party in just my underwear, (high school, don't judge me) I've said good night after a sexy hot man date, because I didn't think I was groomed enough for him to see me the first time and what if he was horrified, and then I'd never see him again. I used to wish I had been born into any other decade in the history of time, because then I wouldn't feel like a mutant/ape woman.

Here's the thing—FUCK THAT. Here's the other thing: this is not my problem. This is not even a problem. After fifteen odd years, I have come to the self evident truth that I will shave or wax as much or as little as I want. I like having a glossy Mother Gaia bush between my legs. I feel relaxed, sexy, and not ten. The more comfortable I am with myself, the better men I find, the better sex I have. It's like a magic formula. I am by no means the first woman to come to this conclusion, but I am hopeful that I am part of a wave going in this direction. At the very least, maybe everyone will stop talking about it, and I can drink my beer on the beach in peace.

Sara J. is a freelance writer.  


1 comment


  • Beverly

    Darlings I am so relieved I’m a baby boomer. This was not only never an issue, it was never even a consideration. Men knew to expect hair down there, and any lack thereof would have had them seriously concerned they were with an underage Lolita. How have things deteriorated so badly in so few years? Thanks for addressing the subject!


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