I’m pretty good about getting my monthly Brazilian wax. And by “pretty good” I mean “totally religious about it and I’m not really religious at all so my vagina is pretty much my spiritual everything.” Or you know, something a lot less creepy but still just as accurate.
So the waxing, right. Well, anyone who gets it done will tell you that the overarching cardinal rule to having your pubic hair yanked out with hot wax is that if that’s the kind of hair removal you’re choosing, it has to be your only kind. You’re married to it. You can’t have a casual relationship with your hair removal – as in, no shaving in between. No matter what. No matter how badly you’re tempted. No matter how much you want to bone the new guy that you happened to start seeing at an unfortunately inconvenient point in your waxing cycle.
You No Shave!
And I know this rule. I know. I know. But what did I do last month? I fucking shaved anyway. Because I was so drunk on my desire for last minute sex that I momentarily let myself forget about the out and out horror of that first post-shaving wax. Fast forward to last week and my finally sacking up to get just that very wax and and and oh my actual HELL. Tammy, the woman who does my waxing, literally slapped me on the thigh and was all, “you no shave!” and I was like, “I know but -” and she was all, “YOU NO SHAVE!” and handed me this little paper fan and motioned for me to start fanning myself while making a face that said, “Oh yeah? You couldn’t wait? You had to shave? Well, get comfortable you little slut because you’re going to be hot and sweaty and in so much pain that you’re going to need to fan yourself over and over for the next 45 plus minutes while I undo all the damage you caused to my masterpiece of a wax job.”
So I did, I fanned and fanned and about halfway through I had to stop with the fanning because of all things, my arm was sore and as soon as I stopped, I saw that while the front of the fan was blank, the back of the fan had a picture of a Geisha on it and a quote in big bold font that read, “You just know something beautiful is happening” and I’m all, “Yeah bro, beautiful” and continued to writhe around in agony while Tammy shook her head and pulled out the tweezers and kept muttering, “You no listen! I say no shave!” and I felt like I was four years old and had taken a cookie from the cookie jar except I’m 24 years old and this was all about my cookie and yet somehow I had still been a very bad girl.
Bling For My Thing
Fast forward through another 20 minutes of my losing the will to live to the part where by some grace of whatever, I actually made it to the end of the damn thing, to the part where I paid for the torture and walked out feeling like I had come through actual battle and I was skipping to the bus and I was so fucking proud of myself for my valiant vaginal efforts and all I could think was, “I’m so hot and woo-hoo and everybody have sex with me right this second” but, and of course there’s a but because life is hard and cruel, just as I got home and was at the pinnacle of it all, I checked my email and saw that while I was off doing more than my due diligence in vagina maintenance, two different people had sent me links to some new process called Vajazzling and oh my god, my entire world has come to a halt with the knowledge that my hot and progressive Brazilian wax is now a thing of the past because there are women out there who are ACTUALLY BEDAZZLING THEIR VAGINAS.
Oh Bitch, You Have No Idea
And at first I was like, “no way” and the article was like, “Oh bitch, you have no idea” so I kept reading because I was all, “I don’t understand how this is possible” and the article was like, “It’s a 2-step process involving some pretty high-tech wax, and then some pretty fabulous Swarovski crystals” and I looked at the photos and watched the video and I was all, “BUT SHE HAS CRYSTALS STUCK TO HER VAGINA LIKE IT’S PARIS HILTON’S CELL PHONE” and the article didn’t have anything to say to that except to assure me that the crystals are guaranteed to last for at least five days if you don’t engage in any vigorous physical activity on the first day and I was all, “Okay, that’s lovely, but for serious, who’s going to go down on me when my vagina is so full of sparkle and glitter that the only guy who could possibly be into it is a guy who’s also into other guys??” Because I mean seriously, men of the world, can you imagine bringing a girl back to your place after a date and it’s all hot and awesome and normal and you’re slowly taking her panties off and you see that oh, by the by, her snatch is full of actual straight up Swarovski crystals? Like, what in the what do you even *do* with that kind of situation? “Hey girl, I’m really diggin your crystal pubes.” Ew. No. God. Stab stab stab.
But I mean, blah blah vagina blah blah, let’s get real here because I’m obviously going to get this done at the first available opportunity and I know, I know, you’re all, “But you’re going to have bedazzled lady parts!” and I mean, true, but my counter argument for you is that, um, I’M GOING TO HAVE BEDAZZLED LADY PARTS.
Which is to say, Dear Vagina: You thought waxing was labor intensive? Well, the stakes have been raised, welcome to sex in 2010.