It’s May 2013, and I haven’t shaved to any great degree in… about two years. It is also worth noting that I am a young woman of partial Italian descent. Thus, the visible hair on my body does not blend into the background in thin translucent wisps, but rather, presents itself upfront with authentic auburn passion and style. All this is to say, not shaving the visible hair on my body makes a statement, whether I am ready to or not. So I might as well be out with it.
Letting my body hair simply be wasn’t anything new to me when I stopped shaving two years ago. I graduated from a rather liberal college in 2006, so I had seen many a strong woman walking around as God had made them, body hair and all. I, on the other hand, shaved regularly throughout college.
I was shy about wearing shorts when even the slightest amount of prickle began to reappear. I even tried a hair removal cream once or twice, which only partially worked and was accompanied by the enticing smell of burning hair. I eventually went as far as waxing, first on my own (which left my legs blue and purple) and then through a professional. No matter whether you do it in the privacy of your own home or have someone else do it for you, ripping hair out of your body is just that: ripping-hair-out-of-your-body. IT HURTS!
I first experimented with a new simplified grooming regimen after college, when I was all about doing what I wanted to, when I wanted to, and taking care of myself while I did it.