After all, men didn’t have to wear restrictive, tight whalebone corset stays . . . er . . . um . . . I mean they didn’t have to wear over the shoulder boulder holders, and men got to have hairy wildebeests legs, so women should get to have hairy wildebeest legs too.
We called it liberation. Mostly it was just droopy and hairy.
Still . . . it was kind of interesting to think that women might be more than the sum of their . . . er . . . um . . . parts, even if they had to be hairy to do it. It was interesting.
For a day or two.
Now it’s bizarre uses for hot wax.
Please be advised that the names have been changed to protect my daughters who are going on a cruise and feel the need to render their bodies as hairless as newborn rats.
“But why?”
“Because everyone is doing it,” one unnamed daughter argued.
“Always a great reason to do anything,” I countered.
She then demonstrated the proper position to assume when having hot wax poured over your . . . er . . . um . . . less than hairless bits, followed by her pantomiming a violent ripping motion. She then acted out the resulting screaming, throwing her legs over her head, crossing her eyes, and passing out.
My other nameless daughter sighed and said, “I didn’t use hot wax. I tried those wax strippy things.”
“Have you lost your . . .”
She cut me off, frowning.
“They didn’t work very well. I now look like a well loved teddy bear.”
“Good grief. You turned yourself into the velveteen rabbit before it winds up on the rubbish heap,” I said with a hand on my . . . er . . .
um . . . heart.
“Pretty much.”
“What happened to the bra burning, boob drooping, hairy legged, proud momma, caftan wearing women of my youth?”
“They got a special deal on a Caribbean cruise.”
Right. That’ll do it.
Linda (All Natural) Zern
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