In the 1970s nobody cared what your foo looked like on the beach. But when the body police at Playboy decided triple Z breasts and fluorescent orange skin were the epitome of sex appeal, there was a major crackdown on muff management. Knickers got smaller, magazines more explicit and ‘pubic hair’ became a dirty word.
Whilst I admire women brave enough to commit to their feminist principles and bare all, I confess mass media has persuaded me down the altogether more tortuous route of hair removal.
What baffles me the most about the bikini line waxing phenomenon is the sheer volume of ‘styles’ you can have going on down there. Whether it’s a high string (bearable); a Brazilian (ouch); a Hollywood (unthinkable), or heart shaped (just bloody weird), I’m surprised someone hasn’t dedicated a magazine to it yet.
And the drama doesn’t end when you’ve chosen a hairstyle; you then have to choose your method. Some people say shaving is the least painful way to deal with the fuzz. I disagree. Unless you want a fanny that looks like it’s just returned from war, put down the razor and head to a waxist. If you’re a Londoner I recommend Hoxton salon. Far nicer and gentler than the previous sadists I’ve encountered, they even ply you with bubbles to numb the pain. It’s practically a party.
Next we move on to ‘decoration’. Not content with accessorising our hands, arms, ankles and bellybuttons, the TOWIE girls have introduced us to the bizarre world of ‘vajazzle’. For those who’ve been living in a cave for the past two years, this is where you glue diamante crap to your bits in the hope of impressing a man. Personally, I’d be wary of any guy who likes a bejewelled bajingo, but hey, to each his own.
Even more disturbing than glittery vajayjays, exclusive American salons are offering women the chance to ‘jazz up’ their bald lady gardens with a strip of brightly coloured animal fur. Because nothing says sexy like a pair of £100 pink ostrich feathers dangling from your faff.
And on that note I’m off to enter my vadge in a fashion show. Laters.
9 comments
Becky says:
Mar 2, 2012
What’s the point in waxing your bits then sticking fur back on?! Bizarre to say the least.
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admin says:
Mar 3, 2012
Exactly- I will be keeping the feathers well away from my bits!
Anna says:
Mar 6, 2012
I love this artcle. The inclusion of both Foo and Vadge made it.
admin says:
Mar 6, 2012
Mmmm perhaps we should combine them to make a new word? ‘Fadge’?
Natalie says:
Mar 6, 2012
haha this made me chuckle a lot! I have the humour of a 12 year old boy, but seriously very well written
xxx
Lizzie says:
Mar 6, 2012
Thanks hun! x
Baggage says:
Mar 13, 2012
[...] bags. The only necessity that can’t be packed is a razor so you’ll either have to brave the waxist before you go or opt for au [...]
Clare Morris says:
Apr 11, 2012
Love this article! Read it to my BF and had us creased up! Great writing and so true!
Hoxton Salon: Review | Baggage says:
Aug 23, 2012
[...] a stranger apply hot goo to your naked nethers whilst you make casual conversation is rarely a pleasurable experience. Although you’ll still need [...]