SHAVING & WAXING

[barkley]

I am now working in the OBGYN field as an OBGYN Assistant. Maybe I have lived a sheltered life but I am shocked at the number of women who wax and shave off all their pubic hair. This trend has gone mad. It is just not the young under 25 crowd it is the 30 and over females. It is sort of disturbing. Has anyone else noticed this trend ????

[stevierae]

Sorry, but the idea of shaving pubic hair COMPLETELY off is essentially saying "I'm a child..." Pretty sick when you think about it...

Oh, for heavens' sake. No, it's NOT. I have a "Brazilian", courtesy of laser treatments, because it makes swimsuits and work-out clothes look better. I think hair hanging out the sides of swimsuits and shorts is gross, gross gross and I think the "au naturale" look of unshaved legs and armpits, and pubic hair gone wild (like a forest, as some otehr posters said) is disgusting. YUCK.

And I am no child. I am 50. But, I have a good body from working out, and am very,very active in a sport that has me out on the river in shorts or a swimsuit all the time, and I don't want to be "hanging out."

OH--and since we're telling all our secrets--OK, I have a piercing, too--I USED to have 3, but my nipples got infected--

[stevierae]

I I'm not saying you have to shave, but atleast make sure the hair is where is should be and not halfway to your knees. GRRRRROOOOSSSS!!!

Or clear across your abdomen and climbing up to your navel!!! ALSO GROSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!

And when it's combined with unshaved armpits and legs--ewwwwwwww......

[stevierae]

Ahem...I am one of those "over 30" who is apparently too old to be remotely sexual in some people's mind. There are benefits to having it shaved, yes there are.

Ohhhhh, yessssss, indeed. Yesssss..... :)

[truern]

My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home from work,

fixed dinner for my son and we played for a while. I then had the

thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next couple hours:

maybe I should use that wax in my medicine cabinet.

I set up my boy with a video and head to the site of my demise, um, I

mean bathroom. It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of

hot wax, you just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart,

press it on your leg (or wherever) and ignore the frantically rising

crescendo of string instruments in the background. No muss, no fuss. How

hard can this be? I mean, I'm not the girly-est of girls but I'm

mechanically inclined so maybe I can figure out how this works. You'd

think.

So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other,

stuck together. I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and soften the

wax (I'm guessing). I go one better: I pull out the hair dryer! and heat

the SOB to ten thousand degrees. Cold wax, my ***. (Oh, how that phrase

will come back to haunt me.) I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the

skin around it and pull. OK, so it wasn't the best feeling in the world,

but it wasn't bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I

am Sheera, fighter of all wayward body hair and smooth skin

extraordinaire!

With my next wax strip, I move north.

After checking on the boy and verifying that he was, in fact, becoming

one with Bear and learning all about smells, I sneak into the bathroom

for The Ultimate Hair Fighting Championship. I drop my panties and

place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I then apply the

wax strip across the right side on my bikini line, covering the right

half of my lady parts and stretching up into the inside of the right *** ch!

eek. Yeah, it was a long strip.) I inhale deeply. I brace myself.

RRRIIIIPPP!!!! I'm blind! Blind from the pain! Vision returning. Oh

crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip. Another deep

breath. And RIIIP! Everything is swirly and tie-dyed? Do I hear crashing

drums? OK, coming back to normal again. I want to see my trophy - my wax

covered pelt that caused me so much agony. I w! ant to revel in the

glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an

Olympic gold medallist.

But why is there no hair on it? Why is the wax mostly gone? Where could

the wax go, if not on the strip?

Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the toilet. I see

hair - the hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I feel. I am

touching wax. I look to the ceiling and silently shout "nooooooo!!" And

realize I have just begun living my own personal version of "The Tar

Baby." I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my body

that is now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big

mistake - up until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the

toilet. I know I need to move, to do something. So I put my foot down

on the floor. And then I hear the slamming of the cell door. lady parts?

Sealed shut. ***? Sealed shut. A little voice in my head says "I hope

you don't have to [censored] anytime soon. Your head just might pop off."

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure out what I

should do next. Hot water! Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest

water I can stand and get in - the wax should melt and I can gently wipe

it away, right? Wrong. I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter

than is used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical

equipment. And I sit.

Now the only thing worse than having your goodies glued together is

having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of a tub. In

scalding hot water. Which, by the way, does not melt the cold wax. So

now I'm stuck to the tub.

I call my friend, C, because she once dropped out of beauty school so

surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off skin. It's

never good to start a conversation with "So my *** and labias are stuck

to the tub." She doesn't have a trick. She does her best to suppress

laughter. She wants to know exactly where the wax is on the *** - "Are

we talking cheek or hole, here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide

the giggles now.

I give her the run-down of the entire night. She tells me to call the

number on the side of the box, but to have a good cover story for where

the wax actually is. "You know that if we were working the help line at

XX Wax Co. and somebody called with their entire crack sealed shut we'd

just put them on hold then record the conversation for everyone we know.

You're going ! to end up on a radio show or the internet if you tell

them the truth.

"While we go through various solutions, I have resorted to scraping the

wax off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girly goodies

than covering them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water and

THEN dry shaving the sticky wax off!

In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably turned to

other subjects!) I find the little, beautiful saving grace that is the

lotion provided with wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and start

screaming "It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations

from C and we hang up.

I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay, that the

hair is still there. So I shaved the damned stuff off. Hell, I was numb

by that point anyway. And then I put the box of wax back in my medicine

cabinet. Never know when a moustache might start to come in.

Tonight, I attempt hair dying.

[AmyB]

My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home from work,

fixed dinner for my son and we played for a while. I then had the

thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next couple hours:

maybe I should use that wax in my medicine cabinet.

I set up my boy with a video and head to the site of my demise, um, I

mean bathroom. It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of

hot wax, you just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart,

press it on your leg (or wherever) and ignore the frantically rising

crescendo of string instruments in the background. No muss, no fuss. How

hard can this be? I mean, I'm not the girly-est of girls but I'm

mechanically inclined so maybe I can figure out how this works. You'd

think.

So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other,

stuck together. I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and soften the

wax (I'm guessing). I go one better: I pull out the hair dryer! and heat

the SOB to ten thousand degrees. Cold wax, my ***. (Oh, how that phrase

will come back to haunt me.) I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the

skin around it and pull. OK, so it wasn't the best feeling in the world,

but it wasn't bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I

am Sheera, fighter of all wayward body hair and smooth skin

extraordinaire!

With my next wax strip, I move north.

After checking on the boy and verifying that he was, in fact, becoming

one with Bear and learning all about smells, I sneak into the bathroom

for The Ultimate Hair Fighting Championship. I drop my panties and

place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I then apply the

wax strip across the right side on my bikini line, covering the right

half of my lady parts and stretching up into the inside of the right *** ch!

eek. Yeah, it was a long strip.) I inhale deeply. I brace myself.

RRRIIIIPPP!!!! I'm blind! Blind from the pain! Vision returning. Oh

crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip. Another deep

breath. And RIIIP! Everything is swirly and tie-dyed? Do I hear crashing

drums? OK, coming back to normal again. I want to see my trophy - my wax

covered pelt that caused me so much agony. I w! ant to revel in the

glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an

Olympic gold medallist.

But why is there no hair on it? Why is the wax mostly gone? Where could

the wax go, if not on the strip?

Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the toilet. I see

hair - the hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I feel. I am

touching wax. I look to the ceiling and silently shout "nooooooo!!" And

realize I have just begun living my own personal version of "The Tar

Baby." I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my body

that is now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big

mistake - up until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the

toilet. I know I need to move, to do something. So I put my foot down

on the floor. And then I hear the slamming of the cell door. lady parts?

Sealed shut. ***? Sealed shut. A little voice in my head says "I hope

you don't have to [censored] anytime soon. Your head just might pop off."

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure out what I

should do next. Hot water! Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest

water I can stand and get in - the wax should melt and I can gently wipe

it away, right? Wrong. I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter

than is used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical

equipment. And I sit.

Now the only thing worse than having your goodies glued together is

having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of a tub. In

scalding hot water. Which, by the way, does not melt the cold wax. So

now I'm stuck to the tub.

I call my friend, C, because she once dropped out of beauty school so

surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off skin. It's

never good to start a conversation with "So my *** and labias are stuck

to the tub." She doesn't have a trick. She does her best to suppress

laughter. She wants to know exactly where the wax is on the *** - "Are

we talking cheek or hole, here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide

the giggles now.

I give her the run-down of the entire night. She tells me to call the

number on the side of the box, but to have a good cover story for where

the wax actually is. "You know that if we were working the help line at

XX Wax Co. and somebody called with their entire crack sealed shut we'd

just put them on hold then record the conversation for everyone we know.

You're going ! to end up on a radio show or the internet if you tell

them the truth.

"While we go through various solutions, I have resorted to scraping the

wax off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girly goodies

than covering them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water and

THEN dry shaving the sticky wax off!

In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably turned to

other subjects!) I find the little, beautiful saving grace that is the

lotion provided with wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and start

screaming "It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations

from C and we hang up.

I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay, that the

hair is still there. So I shaved the damned stuff off. Hell, I was numb

by that point anyway. And then I put the box of wax back in my medicine

cabinet. Never know when a moustache might start to come in.

Tonight, I attempt hair dying.

:rotfl: :chuckle :rotfl: :chuckle :rotfl:

Thanks for that. I really needed a laugh after this week!

[barkley]

I am certainly not saying anything is wrong with shaving. Being out of nursing so long I was unaware of this trend. Do you really think many 50 year olds shave clean??

Oh, for heavens' sake. No, it's NOT. I have a "Brazilian", courtesy of laser treatments, because it makes swimsuits and work-out clothes look better. I think hair hanging out the sides of swimsuits and shorts is gross, gross gross and I think the "au naturale" look of unshaved legs and armpits, and pubic hair gone wild (like a forest, as some otehr posters said) is disgusting. YUCK.

And I am no child. I am 50. But, I have a good body from working out, and am very,very active in a sport that has me out on the river in shorts or a swimsuit all the time, and I don't want to be "hanging out."

OH--and since we're telling all our secrets--OK, I have a piercing, too--

[alphafe]

"...It's really become the 'style" with the generation that revels in their sexuality and explores it to the fullest without shame..."

Wait a minute! That was MY generation!

[Trauma-tizedRN]

OMG this thread is funny.......:roll

[alphafe]

Now I know I'm old.

But I go to day spas and stuff.

So, who does this waxing? Estheticians? Derms? Does it hurt? Isn't this really high maintenance. I hate armpit and leg hair too and "the forest" under the swimsuit, but just help me figure out the who, where, how of this -- I get the why!

[stevierae]

My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home from work,

fixed dinner for my son and we played for a while. I then had the

thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next couple hours:

maybe I should use that wax in my medicine cabinet.

I set up my boy with a video and head to the site of my demise, um, I

mean bathroom. It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of

hot wax, you just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart,

press it on your leg (or wherever) and ignore the frantically rising

crescendo of string instruments in the background. No muss, no fuss. How

hard can this be? I mean, I'm not the girly-est of girls but I'm

mechanically inclined so maybe I can figure out how this works. You'd

think.

So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other,

stuck together. I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and soften the

wax (I'm guessing). I go one better: I pull out the hair dryer! and heat

the SOB to ten thousand degrees. Cold wax, my ***. (Oh, how that phrase

will come back to haunt me.) I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the

skin around it and pull. OK, so it wasn't the best feeling in the world,

but it wasn't bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I

am Sheera, fighter of all wayward body hair and smooth skin

extraordinaire!

With my next wax strip, I move north.

After checking on the boy and verifying that he was, in fact, becoming

one with Bear and learning all about smells, I sneak into the bathroom

for The Ultimate Hair Fighting Championship. I drop my panties and

place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I then apply the

wax strip across the right side on my bikini line, covering the right

half of my lady parts and stretching up into the inside of the right *** ch!

eek. Yeah, it was a long strip.) I inhale deeply. I brace myself.

RRRIIIIPPP!!!! I'm blind! Blind from the pain! Vision returning. Oh

crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip. Another deep

breath. And RIIIP! Everything is swirly and tie-dyed? Do I hear crashing

drums? OK, coming back to normal again. I want to see my trophy - my wax

covered pelt that caused me so much agony. I w! ant to revel in the

glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an

Olympic gold medallist.

But why is there no hair on it? Why is the wax mostly gone? Where could

the wax go, if not on the strip?

Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the toilet. I see

hair - the hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I feel. I am

touching wax. I look to the ceiling and silently shout "nooooooo!!" And

realize I have just begun living my own personal version of "The Tar

Baby." I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my body

that is now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big

mistake - up until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the

toilet. I know I need to move, to do something. So I put my foot down

on the floor. And then I hear the slamming of the cell door. lady parts?

Sealed shut. ***? Sealed shut. A little voice in my head says "I hope

you don't have to [censored] anytime soon. Your head just might pop off."

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure out what I

should do next. Hot water! Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest

water I can stand and get in - the wax should melt and I can gently wipe

it away, right? Wrong. I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter

than is used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical

equipment. And I sit.

Now the only thing worse than having your goodies glued together is

having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of a tub. In

scalding hot water. Which, by the way, does not melt the cold wax. So

now I'm stuck to the tub.

I call my friend, C, because she once dropped out of beauty school so

surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off skin. It's

never good to start a conversation with "So my *** and labias are stuck

to the tub." She doesn't have a trick. She does her best to suppress

laughter. She wants to know exactly where the wax is on the *** - "Are

we talking cheek or hole, here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide

the giggles now.

I give her the run-down of the entire night. She tells me to call the

number on the side of the box, but to have a good cover story for where

the wax actually is. "You know that if we were working the help line at

XX Wax Co. and somebody called with their entire crack sealed shut we'd

just put them on hold then record the conversation for everyone we know.

You're going ! to end up on a radio show or the internet if you tell

them the truth.

"While we go through various solutions, I have resorted to scraping the

wax off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girly goodies

than covering them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water and

THEN dry shaving the sticky wax off!

In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably turned to

other subjects!) I find the little, beautiful saving grace that is the

lotion provided with wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and start

screaming "It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations

from C and we hang up.

I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay, that the

hair is still there. So I shaved the damned stuff off. Hell, I was numb

by that point anyway. And then I put the box of wax back in my medicine

cabinet. Never know when a moustache might start to come in.

Tonight, I attempt hair dying.

:rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: LOL, grrrrrrlll---I had tears running down my face as I read this--not just from laughter,either. I FEEL YOUR PAIN!!!

[stevierae]

I am certainly not saying anything is wrong with shaving. Being out of nursing so long I was unaware of this trend. Do you really think many 50 year olds shave clean??

Ummmmmm----yeah. Many, many women 50 and over, at least among my aquaintances and at my gym, do. It just feels CLEANER, somehow. At least it does to me!

[barkley]

Had no idea it was that popular. I have lived a sheltered life.

Ummmmmm----yeah. Many, many women 50 and over, at least among my aquaintances and at my gym, do. It just feels CLEANER, somehow. At least it does to me!