On hair down there
Something strange is going on here. Call it a trend, call it a movement, but it's the hottest thing since vajazzling and I'm confused.
It started like this. Five girlfriends sitting round a table at noted Asian-fusion restaurant slurping red cocktails that look like afterbirth and having chopstick wars over the last dumpling.
The conversation opened with The Move. [I am moving to Auckland. My girlfriends are horrified. I secretly think they are jealous]. "I'm going to have to find a new hairdresser" I was sighing. "And a new waxer!" one piped up.
We all nodded severely in agreement. The chatter then shifted vertically in direction, from hair on the head to hair down there. Who gets what. Who likes what. Whose boyfriend prefers what. Who gives in to boyfriend's requests and who tells him to stuff himself. Hot wax and rags versus that new-aged warm plastic stuff. Why it hurts more when you're hung over (unanimous verdict: you're feeling sorry for yourself already, and you have more blood closer to the surface. Not scientifically proven, but proven nonetheless via many a sore groin). The strange manoeuvres your waxer puts you through to get the hard-to-reach places. Sometimes you feel like you're in a Reach ad with legs over ears, arms over knees, toes up nose. The awkward conversation centring on everything but your vagina that's staring her unblinkingly in the face.
The squawks and sniggers were reaching peak volume (thankfully the restaurant was busy and loud), but one of our party hadn't spoken a word. She sat there fidgeting with the doris plum in her martini glass. "What?" she cried.
Silence. Intense questioning stares from her peers at the table. More silence. And then in an exasperated voice she cried (loud enough for the neighbouring table to stare) "I get my vagina lasered".
Lasered? We were falling over each other with questions. Like, laser hair removal? (Yes) On your delicate parts? (Yes) Why? (To get rid of the hair, stupid) Does it hurt? (Sheet yes) Why? Why? What? Really? Down there? (Yes!) So you've got like, no hair at all? And you never will? (Yup) What if you miss it? [from the table member who prefers a full hairstyle] (I won't) But how do you know? It's like a tattoo, you might regret it!
It was about this time that she screeched "Shut up!" and we regretfully ceased our verbal prodding. Slowly and calmly she explained. Laser public hair removal is surprisingly popular in the beauty industry. For those who get regular 'all-off's', it's a dream. You never have to deal with the waxer again. Waxer's out of a job. Much like laser hair removal for your moustache, pubic hair removal requires anything from 6-14 sessions (depending on your hair type nationality). It's expensive (up to $2,000), it takes a year (you go to a new session every 8 weeks) It's colourist (that's like hair colour racist) - it doesn't work so well on red, blonde or grey hair.
She stopped talking. The incessant questioning began again. But the biggest and most unanswerable question by far was "What about when you're old?".
It's all very well to be hairless with your lovely smooth vagina now (my friend piped up) but what about when the sagging wrinkles set in? (Mirthless laughter. Much like tattoos in old age we guessed) And what about during child birth? Is that appropriate? (Now that was going too far).
But we had finally got our hairless friend giggling. You know (she said) you can just get your bikini line done. We decided that that makes plenty of sense. We couldn't imagine you'd miss the little guys peeping out the side of your knickers, even at 70. It brought to mind this scene.
After a bit of research and a stumble upon an article in Cosmopolitan about the subject, I've realised that laser pubic hair removal is everywhere. Like the 'Born to Ride' tattoo on your CEO's butt, thousands of New Zealand women are walking about hairless forever and nobody even knows. Could this get Darwinian? Are we breeding a new tribe of hairless women? It could certainly go that way. I was fascinated by this new beauty craze. I even called Caci Clinic to confirm. Yep, they do it too. By the hundreds.
What do you make of the new laser craze? Love it? Hate it? Does it weird you out? Had it done yourself? Enlighten us. Do share.