why wax me Barbie!

I remember years ago ago to seemed when women had some degree of bodily hair and wore it proudly. Certainly the sixties were a time of great rejection of depilatories of all kinds and scissors and the like although it was always somewhat okay for men to be hairy, in the sixties, women too could be hairy.

I recently watched Gimme Shelter with the Altamont Speedway video and ensuing disaster and while I’ve now seen this several times and could speak about the inefficacy of Mick Jagger to keep all the “cats” as he called them cool, the nightmare that the Hell’s Angel’s presented as a sort of security force the Stone’s hired in exchange for free beer all night (bad idea), and were then placed in swarming, grooving center of thousands of San Francisco hippies. Bad things were going to happen and they did. We all know about those things and I would write about what happened at the Altamont speedway in a much more serious artricle, but on this viewing, it was not the violence or the music I noticed as much as it was the way styles change, especially for women. I noticed, for example, that even the thinnest of people were still not as skinny and anorexic looking as some Hollywood stars like that chick from The Practice or Jennifer Aniston, who ten years ago was much prettier than she is now because she was a more normal weight.

Look for real beauty in Hollywood then you’ll want to look to Angelina Jolie, Julianne Moore, Scarlett Johansen and the like – women who look the way I always imagined women should. Women with with fifty miles of back-road curves that makes you want to drive both slow and fast, take the u-bends and pin-curves with an easy grace with the feel of my tires sucking the road and the lilac-tea scent of a lover’s skin. Fifty miles of real curves are better any day that ten miles of highway and when I look for beauty, I’m looking for an adventure, maybe the road less traveled to cop a phrase, and that’s what I see in these women.

On this viewing of Gimme Shelter though, I noticed something else besides body type. What I noticed, curiously enough, was the amount of body hair and yes, shape too. I did not see these super-thin, waiflike girls that I see today. Missing were those girls in their boutique make-up She Umera make-up and Clinque “Slate” eye-pencil and Le Prairie cleansers and creams at $200 a bottle, and all topped off with expensive highlights and a Brazilian bikini wax jobs that leave their own private Rio bald as a Barbie and I wonder what the hell this is all about.

When did we go from a reasonably heavy grooming, as we called it. A few snips and trimming every now and then and perhaps a smattering of Jolen bleach for darker haired girls used to fade out darker hair on the bikini lines to now, a time in which the trend is to remove everything entirely leaving us smooth as pre-pubescent girls or the Danae with their broken backs in fin de seicile painting. We wax and we trim and we dye and we buzz and we do everything and anything to get that once wavy totem sign of sexuality into a well-controlled and tightly mowed small plot of land, like a front row lot in suburbia? At Altamont and Woodstock , women are naked, and topless all over the place and they weight, gosh, over hundred and ten pounds. My, most even look like they might weigh one hundred and thirty pounds and shit, even their breasts look real and are about a thirty-six or forty C cup because with a natural body weight comes natural breasts, leaving us with no need for saline implants because in this land, in this time, we grow our own. When did that become “overweight” because I have to tell you, I’ve been too thin most of my life and recently began a medication that is making me gain weight as one of it’s side effects and I couldn’t be happier.

At last, I have those fifty-miles of curves and God, I like to think I’m a good drive, but I also know that right now, anyway , I’d be better off without this medication and back to my natural state, which is about a size four, or two, so thin and waiflike that I look like I am about to disappear. Who knew that was sexy? Combine that with my Celtic origins and relative lack of bodilky hair, and I’m totally chic for a change.

The hair that I have had removed, partly out of curiosity, partly out of research, and yes, partially out of a social sense that I “should” or I “ought” has been faint and relatively painless, or used to be until I started one particular drug that made my hair grow thicker. After that, the hair grew in a bit courser, though still light by most standards, my next wax left me bruised and raw with blood pooling under the surface of the skin and bruises on each side that stayed for over a month. I wondered why me or anyone would put ourselves through this

Don’t misunderstand. I’m not advocating for some huge pubic afro as was once the style, though frankly , I’m not sure what’s wrong with that if anything or if it’s just, uh, a matter of taste perhaps. To me, it just seemed more considerate, I suppose, if you had or have a lover and wanted to be considerate. At least, that was my logic. But I’ll tell you, I have also discovered that all people no matter how hairless you think you may be, everyone has very faint peach fuzz, baby hair, near their rear where it tilts lovingly into the vagina. Horror or horrors! My bikini waxer said that most women remove this “unnecessary hair” and though no, it wasn’t’ much in my case (huge sigh, for some reason, this totally natural thing really disturbed me and made me feel unfeminine). I was lucky, she said. Most women with dark hair have lots more and it’s so painful, she said, making a sort of sad face, like she empathized with the women on her table. Within a few seconds, it was soon gone, all five strands of fine, blonde hair removed in one quick flick of the wrist.

I wanted to say No!. I wanted to stand up for my rights as a woman and say I will not give in to what society tells me is attractive and leave myself spot bald like a kitten with a bad case of mange. I will not give into this ridiculous societal pressure but then it struck me, if I do not give in, what if my own lover prefers to go to Rio with a woman who had a perfectly smooth area and I , though I haven’t, had decided to let it all grow in and be all liberated and Joni Mitchell or Joan Baez like with some super-fro between my legs and a Patti Smith tangle of hair under my arms – hadn’t many, many absolutely gorgeous men found those women attractive? Even my hero Bob Dylan had dated women who were notorious feminists and doubtful trimmed their public hair and let’s not forget , there did not exist entire salons teeming with technicians who could whip, snip, wax, mold, dye and groom your pubic hair into whatever shape or pattern you desired, including the real complete Barbie, as I call it, if that’s what you wanted, and yes, the Barbie involved removing those baby-fine hairs by your sumptuous bottom just in case anyone think of you as mother earth or some atavist because of a few stray hairs.

Oh sure, I could talk a good game, I could stand up for women’s rights and I do. I’ve spent whole years and more of my life devoted to arguing for and writing about women’s issues, particularly defending women in the porn industry and looking out for what motivates them and making sure they are not being abused. I’ve gone so far out of my way to read MacKinnon, even Dworkin for chrissakes, and yet here I am writing an article about the various etiquettes of bikini waxes and pubic hair trimming and styles because I think it says a lot about what has happened to us.

Now understand. I’m not saying that because we wax or shave or dye or trim or whatever that we are any less of a feminist. I think there are loads of strong women, maybe even in Congress or the Senate or the White House or the movement who go about getting bikini waxes and maybe even dying their eyelashes a deep black to appear more attractive. Since I started writing this article, I cannot help but look at various celebrities and famous women and wonder which type fall into. Never mind the obvious drones, like Paris Hilton and the like – they’re all Barbies and we know it.

I asked Edith, the best waxer in Boston, Massachusetts, bar none, what are the various styles that women ask for and what are the most popular. I lay on her table with my little tape recorder running and my notebook balanced on my chest. After telling me that I was “pretty tame” and “simple”, we moved on to what one of America’s leading waxers had seen in her career. Who would imagine that anyone could be famous for their wax technique, yet there she is, and others too, who have made whole careers, lives on their technique. Who knew that waxing is considered a real art? Certainly not I, but there you have it. Getting an appointment with Edith is often a sixth month ordeal, so book damn early (she was last at Salonpini on Newbury Street).

As I lie on her table while Edith applied the warm wax to the sounds of the rainforest and a tinkling stream that made me want to pee the whole time, she told me about her most popular requests. There was;

1. The Valentine’s Day heart in which women come in and request that their public hair be shaped into a heart and some of those people also want it bleached up and then dyed bright red for greater effect.

2. The Landing Strip, which is a narrow strip of hair about the length and width of your thumb that runs from above the area (all other hair is removed ). This is common in Playboy or Penthouse etc.

3. The Brazilian in which all hair is removed and I do mean <i>all</i> from the labia to any strays on the bottom and any hair anywhere else. By far, I’m told this is the most painful and not every salon will do it because they think it’s “icky” or are put off by it.. Edith does it because she’s a professional and if that is what the client wants – sixty dollars to have their pubic hair removed, who is she to argue. It’s all very hygienic and lacking in any sexual or erotic tension, which you well-know if you’ve ever had a wax job.

4. There is the St. Patrick’s Day Shamrock – like valentines’ day only shamrock shape and green.

5. The Leopard – a larger area of hair left but with circles of bleach used to create a dappled and dark/light effect like a leopard.

6. Arrows too are common, with the arrow, bien sur, pointing downward as if any guy needed that much direction, but hey, if he does, then I’d say get rid of him right away because if you’re the kind of girl who cares enough to get a bikini was, you’re not going to tolerate a lover who is less “with it” than you are.

7. There is the super-thin line of hair, barely there, in which all hair is removed from the labia and a superfine line is left above; sort of like the Landing Strip but much, much finer.

8. And, of course, there are boyfriend’s initials and symbols of all kinds (including several women who have asked for a Mercedes Benz logo in their area).

In short, create the topiary of your choice, but please note that before such shaping is possible, you will need to grow in your Landing Strip or whatever to create a sizable area with which to work – in other words, you’ll need to grow it out, which like any hair cut, is awkward and yuk looking during process. This waiting time may be somewhat unpleasant if you are used to being neat and clean and shaped and things may be a bit out of control until its all grown in long enough to work with and the Voila! go and see Edith or some other goddess of the wax and go to town. You will emerge with your secret design, well hidden from all be he or she who is the lucky chosen one.

These are just a few of the things Edith told me. She told me much, much more, such as the piercings that many, many women showed up with and that she, said, you could never tell who would have a labial or clitoral piercing by looking because it was always these Ann Taylor types who seem so ordinary and normal but must be wild by night or like those shampoo commercials where the uptight and done up secretary rips off her tortoiseshell frames and unpins her tight up-do and shakes her long, silky hair loose and becomes a ravishing bombshell. She is the type that would have the piercings and the leopard spots, Edith tells me. Not who you would think. So what about me? Don’t I look like a sex kitten, or perhaps even one of those uptight Ann Taylor or Lily Pulitzer girls who could really cut loose and be wild if I wanted to?

I had started off certain this was <i>not</i> what I wanted, but the more I heard about it and the more articles I read for research for this piece, the more I wanted to be in on the deal. I wanted a Brazilian, a landing strip - I wanted everything except a dye job because that struck me as too weird and unnatural, not that it’s ever natural to have topiary public hair, but still, if this is the erotic trend of the moment, I could lose my man to some woman with a real Brazilian and he and she would be off to Rio in a flash!

The horror of it would be too much. Even the book by Plum Sykes, <i>Bergdorf Blondes</i>, tells us horror stories of men leaving us for women with better Brazilians or even despite the fact that we went through incredible pain in order to get a Brazilian to please him in the first place. And as a writer and editor at Vogue where even I once interned, Sykes ought to know about such trends and surely writes with authority in her book, which is good for light reading and quite funny at turns..

I know, I know, our man will tell us he loves us just as we are. My own said the same thing until I came home one day after seeing Edith (research for this article) and when undressing, he noticed. I can tell you, his interest was certainly piqued. So you see, I found that my love will say anything to please me and this much <i>is</i> genuine. He may mean it at the time, but what if some hussy gets far enough to show off her newly waxed mound and then what --? It’s like anything – you don’t know whether or not you like it til you have had it. It could be like chocolate cake that you’ve never tasted and then suddenly, wow! who knew this thing you never thought you’d like could be so good.

I tell you, this will never happen to me, or not for this reason. He may leave me. I may leave him. but never would it be for a reason as silly as a bikini wax etc.. All of this sounds nuts, I agree. As I’ve said, If I were living alone in a hut on the top of a mountain, would I really take tree sap and some leaves and rib my hair out by the root all around my bikini line, forming pleasing shapes to look at while I meditated? I sincerely doubt it. It seems to me that yes, we do some things for ourselves, but this one, I’m afraid I think if we’re totally honest, we do it for that other we are involved with, especially if the other is male and has his eyes open. Would my own love leave me for so simple and trite a reason? I pray not and doubt it, but he may take a trip to exotic lands for a brief time just to test the waters.

Oh, I hear you say how shallow this would be. How if he’d leave me for this, I’m better of without him, but who said anything about leaving me? Like so many people, maybe he’d just want to try something different, and maybe I’m smart enough to know that he can try that something different with me as long as I’m willing to keep things changing and evolving. It’s like having a new wife every six months; shake it up, keep things interesting, I was always told and so I do.

Well, it has been an education. I have visited about five different waxers for the course of this story (I know you feel my pain… flowers are welcome). I have been bruised, bloodied by hacks who had no clue and pampered and make gorgeous by those at the top of their game who made me look and feel like a real sex pot after doing by my bikini line and my eyebrows, giving me arches to be envied, that point ironically and coyly skyward at just the right times. I have also discovered which style is right for a fair girl like me, though I’ll never tell.

Note: If you decide to go this route, go to a good or great salon the first time and never look it up in the yellow pages. Ask a friend for word of mouth reference or check Allure magazine as they have a directory of the best waxers around who won’t leave you wounded the way some left me. Also note, that tell your waxer if you are on certain medications since some, narcotics or Ritalin or antibiotics, for example, leave your skin more sensitive, so be careful. Also, if you are fair, like me, think less is more. You likely don’t need very much done, so leave it at that. And as for the rest, it’s all purely natural. Do what pleases you, and never mind what anyone else has to say.