“Wax on, wax off. Breathe in through nose, out the mouth.”
Mr. “Esuke” Miyagi aka Pat Morita “The Karate Kid” 1984
So let’s talk beauty maintenance! I must confess something before I begin, though. I have an addiction that began in the mid-nineties. While there are many things that need to be handled and coiffed and maintained when you are trying to keep your sexy going, I am going to tell you about one of my maintenance compulsions. They say that professing your problem out loud is the first step to recognition. So I am about to profess and probably give you more details about my addiction than you care to know, but what the hell, you already know so many little crazy details about me what’s one more, right?
Shortly before my wedding, in the mid-nineties, I went to one of those salons where they do a little of everything. The girl helping me asked if I had ever thought about waxing my eyebrows. To be honest, it had never even crossed my mind. I’m from Irish blood, hence the red hair and freckles. Apparently, another Irish trait is a lot of hair. It works in my favor on top of my head, not so much everywhere else, if you get what I’m saying. So I thought, why not? She swiped that warm wax across my brows and said, “Take a deep breath.” When I exhaled she ripped that sucker off. In one clean swipe I had a whole new face. I was so excited about my new look that I ran out and got three new eye shadows! That was just the beginning. My hours of shaving and plucking were about to be over.
I kept with the brow waxing alone until I got pregnant for the first time. In What to Expect When You’re Expecting, I read about the topic of hormone changes and the effects it has on your body. What they didn’t explore were the hormones in this hairy Irish girl that made hair start coming out of pores that had never seen the light of day! Good Lord, if freckles are angel kisses from God, this hormone surge was like being hickory switched by the hairy fairy! So back to the esthetician I went. By this time I had found Victoria , the queen of all things smooth. Thus began the addiction. I had her wax my lip, upper and lower, and my chin. I’d even become fond of that warm waxy feeling as she swiped it on and RIPPED it off. I knew in every swipe there was that smooth-faced girl waiting to come out.
Thank God, after each pregnancy the hormones calmed down and so did the hair. But I was hooked. Once I got back into shape so that I could wear a bikini again, I started thinking of other areas that could use a rip or two. You know where this is going, right? Just say it with me — BRAZILIAN! Having become a wax veteran, I didn’t think that this would be much different from the waxing I had done in the past. It was just a different area. YEAH RIGHT!
Victoria laid out the tiny paper thong on the table and said she would allow me some time to get ready. I was to leave on my top and my socks but remove everything else. It was starting to feel a lot like my yearly gynecological visit. When she came back in the room she looked less like a gynecologist and more like a freakin surgeon!
She was wearing a mask and rubber gloves, a lab coat, and she was pushing in a table of “tools.” I think it was then that I started to wonder if this addiction of mine had gotten a little out of hand. However, I was already on the table with the paper thong riding up my butt and there was no turning back. If she had brought out stirrups, I might have had birth flashbacks and gone running out of the room!
And then it began. She waited until she had the first coat of wax on one side to say, “Now Angel, this is going to hurt, so I want you to be prepared.” I took a deep breath, and then she snatched that long piece of paper off with all that wax and I came three feet off the table and let out the loudest howl you’ve ever heard! It was a lot like the scene from Forty Year Old Virgin, but “Kelly Clarkson” was NOT what came out of my mouth! “F***@@@@@########*********@@@@@#########K! Was what every one else in the salon heard come out of that room! She quickly tried to apply pressure to the area and shush me. I seriously think I scared her and her other customers. That was the first swipe. We had about twenty more to go. I don’t need to describe to you how the rest of the swipes went — third verse, same as the first, shall we say?
What I do want to describe has been the topic of many discussions among my friends and the man of the house; the compromising positions in which you get in to submit yourself to this sexy sacrifice of torture. I’ve delivered two babies. Any woman who has gone through pregnancy and childbirth knows that modesty pretty much goes out the window when you are in pain. You’re so uncomfortable that you really don’t mind what’s hanging out of your gown or who’s looking, you just want to get the process over and get on the other side of the pain. A Brazilian is much the same way. She had me up and down, rolling left and rolling right. At one point, my behind was at high noon! While I’m sure all you guys out there are thinking, “Right on!” I dare any of you to try it and see how sexy you feel during. Victoria is also available for manscaping!
She finally finished and told me it was over. I dried my tears and hobbled home. But, after a few days, I was so very pleased with Victoria’s work. Just like with childbirth, the pain was forgotten. No more shaving or razor rash! So, it just solidified my need to keep waxing.
Please don’t send over the intervention team,. It won’t do any good. I will never stop. In fact, I’m currently looking for other areas that might need attention. My latest addition to this addiction is my arms. They are smooth like a baby’s butt after Victoria gets through with them. So my message to you today is this — push through the pain. Give in to your need for feeling sexy, whatever that entails. And if you ever go in for a Brazilian, take a Valium first!