The price of beauty...

Sometimes, it's tough being a Girl (pause for the emphatic Amens of my Virtual Sisters to subside). And I'm not even talking about the obvious burdens, like childbearing, or monthly chocolate-covered-potato-chip cravings, or...attempting to have meaningful communication with Men. No, I'm referring to the things we willingly choose to undergo in the name of, say, preserving youthfulness, and maintaining beauty. Some of these procedures of course are simple and unobtrusive, and just become part of our daily routine, such as slathering on moisturizer with sunscreen, or (in my case) concealing dark undereye circles and brushing a smidge of color onto my pale Irish complexion. But there is one necessary, routine female task that absolutely has made me NUTS for years: shaving my legs. Let's see, what do I despise the most about it? The time-suckage...the required contortionism... the bleeding ...the unsightly missed spots...the fact that it starts growing back immediately after you've finished (grrrrrr!!!)...oh yeah, and the wiry, unattractive stubble.


Several years ago I seriously considered laser hair removal to put an end once and for all to the repeated torture of scraping my legs every couple of days. But I was thwarted by two things: the expense (in the thousands of dollars for a full course of treatment) and the pain. (About that--radio commercials use perky-sounding local celebrities to drum up business. In their chipper voices, they describe the "minimal discomfort", no worse than "a rubber band snapping against your skin!" Wow! I'd like to pay a boatload of money for someone to ping me repeatedly with a rubber band...over my entire calf, ankle, knee, and shin...for a half-hour or so! Sign me up!) However, in one of the womens' magazines that I read, I caught a blurb about a different option that has recently been developed. It involves using a naturally-derived enzyme gel, rubbed onto the skin, to "destroy the open hair follicles by breaking down the cells that produce hair."  You still need a series of treatments, but the cost is significantly less overall than the Star Wars Method (I can't help it, every time I think of lasers, I hear the whoosh of a lightsaber, and Darth Vader intoning, "Use the Force, defeat the...rebellious...hairs...)


So, I decided to become a Woman on a Mission--a hopeful Quest for (eventually) Bare Legs. I bravely shelved my razor (thank goodness it's still too cold for capris yet!) and arranged my first appointment. Oh, I did forget to mention one critical piece of information...the gel application occurs AFTER hair removal...via waxing. For those who have never willingly submitted to having sections of leg-hair ripped out at the roots, let me sum it up for you: YOWZA, that smarts like a...nevermind, just OUCH! But when it's over--and the tears have dried--you have baby-smooth legs and, fingers crossed, tiny little follicles shriveling up beneath the skin, nevermore to produce unwanted, unneeded hair! (Sounds kind of vicious, right? Too bad! After all, in an evolutionary sense, women haven't needed hair on their legs to keep them warm since...well, since Modern Civilization came up with such brilliant inventions as: Indoor Heat! And...Pants!)


Currently I'm about a week away from my second session, and the legscape already looks less hairy (not yet cropped-pant-ready, but definitely better). I even went so far as to discuss it with my Female Posse at--of all places--a recent NCAA Basketball party thrown by a friend. As we sat around the appetizer table, munching on olive tapenade and artichoke-spinach dip, I regaled them with my narrative...even going so far as to hike up the leg of my jeans to demonstrate the progress (after taking a surreptitious glance around, to make sure no unsuspecting guest wandered in and got a Free Show). This led to a riotous comparison of Hair Removal Battle Tales, which not only had us snarfing our snacks, but also provided the added Bonus of keeping all the Males far, far away from the conversation. (For example, one of our Guy Friends happened to meander past us through the kitchen, picked up the words "bikini wax", and with a priceless facial expression--filled with equal parts shock and horror--practically tripped over himself sprinting away from the area!)

At this early stage, it's safe to say I am cautiously nurturing high hopes for this process. But please note: shaving between treatments is strictly forbidden, so this Summer may be a bit more... prickly than the norm. If you run into me at the pool, and you notice something...unusual...kindly pretend you don't notice, and refrain from mentioning it. Unless of course a group of Men walks by; then by all means feel free to throw out the code phrase (you know, "Bikini Wax") and launch into a Girl Story that'll have them diving into the Deep End to escape. And we can go back to our cheese, crackers, and chatting...