A story of hair removal.
I spent last weekend in Santa Cruz with Oose. We had decided during the week prior that we should try waxing for the first time.
I'm not referring to our legs.
I had mentioned going to a professional waxing salon and she couldn't get over the idea of how uncomfortable she would be with some moderately trained Vietnamese woman peering into her cooch. I still can't discern how that's very different from going to the women's clinic and having a different person checking your yoni every time you have to go back. But I wasn't about to push the issue.
Oose suggested we just get at-home kits and wax each other.
Yeah. I know.
I tried the salon idea a couple more times, but she seemed so genuinely uncomfortable that I eventually just caved.
I think we both regret that now.
With a bottle of wine, some excellent tunes, and the support of her very accommodating boyfriend, we each made it about halfway through waxing before we gave up.
I still have a picture on my phone of the wax on my upper thigh that rorschached into a moose after I instinctively put my legs together when it didn't come off with the paper.
The next day we ate some brunch and ran a few errands before we talked out the situation over coffee. I basically was refusing to try to do the rest ourselves and she pretty much agreed. So I googled salons in the Santa Cruz area and found one willing to make two simultaneous/back-to-back appointments for us at 5:30 on Sunday.
The woman I found was super nice and very clean and professional. She let us know everything she was doing and let us both stay in the room while one was being waxed without being the least bit weird about it. She was also very chatty and made the whole situation seem normal as opposed to awkward.
Most importantly, she didn't make us feel like idiots for trying to do it on our own. I think she realized we felt dumb enough without her.
Let me tell you, finding someone to rip the hair out of your cooter is not cheap. But it's kind of worth it. The hair doesn't grow back as fast as it seems to with shaving, there's less of it, and you don't get all irritated from finding random patches of hair that you missed or that are difficult to get to.
On the other hand, it's uncomfortable to sit for the first night. It was even worse for use because of the double waxing. Also, hair apparently grows in stages, so your skin isn't perfectly smooth until the third wax. Though, after the first time the hair is finer, so you feel it less anyway.
I would definitely suggest that if you decide to try getting a Brazilian you should invite someone you really trust to go with you and hold your hand. It's not as painful as I would have thought, but it's definitely nice to have the morale support. Plus, it scares the crap out of you when they're about to pull the strip.
Also, you should probably be aware that they wax everything. And I mean EVERYTHING.
If I had decided to name this story according to the part of it that scarred me the most, it would not be "That Time Oose and I Decided to Wax Our Own Genitalia." It would be "That Time A Stranger Touched My Asshole."