torso of beefcake man

Man garden?

I’m pretty sure the word ‘Brazilian’ was where it all started going wrong for our poor little fannies. As if naming a wax job after a country full of permanently bronzed sex gods would make us forget the pain, anguish and emotional trauma of having our foofs stripped barer than Tiny Tim’s Christmas Goose.

Until relatively recently, I’d assumed this trend was a female-specific torture. A modern day societal punishment for that apple thieving incident in the Garden of Eden. (Or just some wanker at Playboy who decided he was too lazy to look for it anymore.) But according to male friends, it’s not just we lady folk obsessed with ridding our bits and pieces of all things fuzzy. In a decade where posting bathroom selfies in your knickers is considered an acceptable twenty-something pastime, body gardening for men is well and truly on the fash pack agenda. (Except for the boys in Dalston, obviously. Judging by the state of their facial hair I dread to think what’s going on south of the equatorial line.)

Luckily this elevated level of concern over scrotal smoothness is rarely a problem. To be honest it’s best left completely unmentioned save for three very specific instances. Firstly when he starts commenting on your choice genital hairstyle. “Have you ever considered a Hollywood babe?” Secondly when he takes longer in the bathroom than you. And finally when he’s using your lady shave in pursuit of a fur free ball bag. There’s a line. And all of these things would be crossing it.

I have to admit, though I doubt any of these fluffless gents will be braving the hot-wax-to-squishy-bits option any time soon, I’m secretly relieved the bald look isn’t just reserved for girls.

But whatever you do boys, leave the chest out of it. Cuddling up to a pair of recently shaven man boobs is like trying to snuggle a giant cactus.