Although the trend for women to remove pubic hair has been around for some time, I’m still on the fence. When the fashion first struck, I was living in New York City, and at the suggestion of a friend, decided to get a Brazilian wax. In spite of my reservations, I got caught up in the hype, and was hopeful that I’d discover a way to clear my panty line without creating the itchy bumps that come with other defoliating techniques. Had I had any idea of how painful it is to have the hair from one’s most sensitive area ripped out by the follicles, I certainly would have followed my instincts and stuck with Nair. My eyes watered, I gritted my teeth and I moaned. Suffice it to say, I never returned again.
I'm always amazed (and sometimes annoyed) by the things women will do to themselves in the name of beauty. There are so many messages telling us we are not good enough as we are and therefore need to “fix” ourselves — wax, cut, tan, suck out the fat — to achieve some ideal of desirable beauty. I admit that I have succumbed to these messages on occasions.
When my pubic hair started turning gray, I reconsidered waxing. When I started seeing myself on camera, I considered Botox, and whether for beauty or health — or both — you'll find me at the gym at least five days a week.
Even more extreme than mere hairlessness is the designer vagina. One of the fastest growing cosmetic surgeries for woman is labiaplasty, where the clitoris and labia are beautified according to what a client desires. It’s a face-lift for down under. This new cosmetic surgery trend, along with the hair removal craze, give me reason to pause and ask: When did a vagina — a place rarely seen in the light — become such an object of scrutiny? I rarely, if ever, see mine, even though I care for it regularly.
With that in mind, I went to the drugstore, specifically to purchase a handheld mirror that will go in the drawer near my bedside. My intention is to spend time looking at my vagina at least once a week. I’m hoping to get to know it in a way that might help me appreciate its power, charm and skill.
But back to the subject at hand, I suspect that some men like hairless vaginas (among many reasons) because it makes giving oral sex more pleasurable for them, to say nothing of less worrisome for women. This theory came into sharp focus for me recently during a lovemaking session.
My lover started making this horrible throat-clearing sound, clearly having had an unfortunate encounter with one of my stray hairs. Removing himself from our den of love, he went into the bathroom to try to cough up the hair that had lodged in his throat. I lay waiting for him in bed, until I finally realized there was no coming back from this event. Finally, I grabbed my smartphone and Googled, “remove hair in throat.” The answer: Eat dry bread.
After that experience, I have made it my business to trim my candy patch often. But I won’t go naked — call me crazy, but I still think there’s something a little weird about an adult woman not having hair down there. (I mean, hello, it's there for a reason, mainly to keep bacteria and other unwanted organisms from flourishing.)
So until further notice, I’m determined to continue rocking a low-cut fade.