A waxing virgin goes all the way!
Do the drapes match the carpet? Not anymore! The carpet has been yanked out, not even a little welcome mat...it’s known as Brazilian style of décor, if you want to know.
Every now and then it’s a good idea to shake things up a little, so I decided to do something new and different, at least new and different for me. Having never had any kind of hair removal experience other than shaving, and one ill-fated encounter with Nair back in my teens, I had certainly heard wide-ranging stories about using wax to quickly pull out the hairs from your calves, thighs, under arms, and yes even your basic nether regions.
To Wax or not to Wax...that is the question. TV and movies are a great source of such information and imagery. I had seen my share of shows along such lines, so I thought I probably knew quite a bit about it. On the negative side: a certain Friends episode and the Steve Carrell movie The 30 Year Old Virgin – both clearly relate the sheer pain of undergoing the wax-on-wax-off treatment. On the plus side: Sex and the City and Californication (thank you, Netflix) made it seem like just another spa treatment. And let’s face it, we all love spa treatments! It can’t be that bad, right?
So I booked an appointment, sounding as if I knew exactly what I was doing: full legs and Brazilian wax job, please. I showed up and was greeted with friendly faces. So far so good. I was taken to the changing room where a comfy robe was available, and then into a small room and told to disrobe and lay face up on the massage table. I could cover up with the towel, I was told. I was given a disposable little undie to put on, so tiny thin and loose, I really don’t think it served any purpose other than a token gesture towards modesty, but I put it on and laid down.
Soon the lady came in and explained the process. “How do you feel?” she asked. “A little nervous,” I replied. It was clear she was a consummate professional and I was in good hands, so I really wasn’t worried. I told her I had never done this before, and she said, “Oh, first time to get the Brazilian?” “Actually,” I said, “first time to ever be waxed.” She did look at me funny for a second and then said, “Why do you want to do everything the first time?” It was a fair question, one to which I didn’t really have a response, so I shrugged and said, “Well, I live on the edge.”
The process was simple and methodical: A little baby powder so the hot wax adheres well to the hairs, a smear of warm, thick, yellow wax across a region of skin, a papery cloth patted onto the wax and then the question, “Ready?” Generally speaking, I was ready...but now and then I thought I was, only to realize I actually wasn’t ready at all...but by then it was too late.
We started with the front of the right calf, surprisingly quite a sting. This made me fairly scared about what was to come. The region around the knee was fine, though, as was the front of the thigh. Ok, no worries mate! The process repeated on the left leg, again the calf was the worst of it. I was asked to flip over on my stomach and the process continued with very little anguish.
From somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind I got it into my head that if anything hurt, I should just imagine that Christian Grey was the one ripping off the wax. This actually worked wonders, sort of reframing the pain as pleasure. I hope you read the books or saw the movie, otherwise you have no clue what I am referring to here.
Time to flip over again, and then the towel, which until now had covered my private zones, was lifted. “I guess it’s show time,” I said, and the professional wax expert nodded. I convinced myself that as embarrassed as I was, it surely meant nothing to her. After all, she does this every day. “You want to continue?” she asked. “Let’s do it,” I said.
From here I will refrain from too much detail, but I will say that she boldly went where no one has gone before (cue the space music). But seriously folks, suffice it to say my mental trick of picturing Mr. 50 Shades as my torturer was greatly needed. Breathing out during the critical moment also helped, but my toes did cross. My new best friend was very sensitive and helpful to what I was going through. She really is a professional wax expert!
For this article there will definitely NOT be any before and after pictures. The overall effect is one of sensational smoothness, a state of affairs that is supposed to last two to four weeks, depending on your own rate of re-growth. Then we will see if I have the courage to do it all again!
