My husband and I have been married for over 17 years (obviously, I was a teen bride—OBVIOUSLY) so it can sometimes be a challenge to keep the spice in our sex life. We’ve used lots of things over the years: lingerie, toys, porn, you know the drill (we have never used a drill).
But my favorite “spice” is pubic hair art. That is, over the years, I’ve shaved various shapes into my pubic region: hearts, arrows, a martini glass, his initial, etc. (My God, I just realized that I’m an artist, and my medium is pubic hair.) If a particular piece doesn’t come out well, I just make it a Rorschach test, and we have great sex anyway.
(I will not be including any of those pictures with this post.)
For my husband’s last birthday, I decided to surprise him with a Brazilian. Now, I’ve never had a wax job on any part of me before, much less one where they remove everything from my hoo-ha. (I know, they don’t actually have to remove everything, but I figured go big or go home, right?) I decided that I could spare some hair in honor of my husband.
I didn’t think much of the whole process when I was scheduling the appointment, but honestly, I was a little nervous when the day came. When the technician arrived, I gave her a frightened look.
“First time?” she inquired.
“Yep,” I chirped softly.
She then proceeded to explain the process and how she was going to remove the most sensitive hair first and then the rest of it. Then she moved the blanket.
“Oh. Uhhhhh, well, first we need to trim the hair back a bit. Quite a bit.”
I guess I had a forest going on there. I silently cursed my Italian grandmother. And the technician proceeded to trim my pubes with teeny tiny scissors (at least she didn’t have to get out a chainsaw), which actually tickled a bit. So I giggled and then got nervous about giggling over someone touching my pubic hair. Because it seemed vaguely inappropriate. (But it felt kinda nice.)
“Okay, now that we’ve trimmed the hair, I’m going to remove the most sensitive area first.”
“I’ve pushed out two kids. How hard can this be?” I pretended to be brave.
“Okay, then, here I go.”
“HOLYMOTHEROFUCKINGSHITBALLSMOTHERFUCKER!!” I screamed in my head.
But what I uttered through clenched teeth was a weak, “I’m okay.”
And then she pressed her hand against my pubic bone (I assume to alleviate the pain).
“Harder! Harder! HARDERRRRR!” I screamed. Only that might have caused some more awkwardness.
After she threw me a weird glance, she assured me, “Well, that was the worst one. It gets easier from here.”
And it went like that for one fucking long session. Time became meaningless. I tried to concentrate on my breathing and not kicking her in the fucking face. Breathe in. Breathe out. Restrain foot. Repeat.
Fortunately, she was right. The first one was the worst. (But the rest sucked pretty hard too.) After removing all of my hair, she applied some sort of soothing salve. It had a name. I don’t remember it. I was kind a hoping for a massage. Or a cigarette.
But the awkward sexual innuendo and the pain are not the reasons I will no longer be getting Brazilians. No, I could deal with those again. There are three other reasons I will no longer be waxing the hooha:
1. After the technician left the room, I picked myself up off of the table. Actually I kind of slid off of the table in my own sweat. I walked over to the mirror to examine myself, and I was horrified. Not because I looked like a prepubescent girl (although that was slightly horrifying). I was horrified because it was at that moment that I realized that my pregnancy stretch marks went ALL THE WAY DOWN INTO MY TANTALIZING TRIANGLE. They looked like grotesque, greedy little fingers pointing the way down. Or lightening bolts threatening to strike any who enter.
Fortunately for me, my husband didn’t seem to notice the stretch marks. He was quite happy with the results. Also, he was too busy noticing that…
2… Without the hair there to provide a buffer, I was horny as hell. Constantly. This became a problem. (My husband didn’t think this was a problem.) It didn’t matter where I went or what I was doing, I wanted to attack my husband. Or the waiter. Or the lamppost. Suffice it to say, we had a lot of sex over the next week. But the constant horniness only lasted until…
3… The hair started growing back, and I switched from ecstasy to agony. AGONY. Apparently—and no one warned me about this—I am not a good candidate for waxing. The itching, while annoying, was the least of my problems. Turns out that I am prone to ingrown hairs, and they hurt like a mofo. I started telling my husband I had boils and scurvy and bad, bad shit. I looked like a diseased slave from Game of Thrones. Not even a Dothraki would ravage me.
So, basically, I’m done with the Brazilians. Forever. I’ll stick to pubic hair art to spice things up.
I’m thinking about a chili pepper next.
Photo Credit: ssuaphoto / 123RF Stock Photo
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I just wanted to say I just read your article about your Brazilian wax. I have never laughed so hard and cried tears from said laughter as I just did. Thank you so much! I needed that so much! You are awesome!
Thank YOU so much for reading the post and for coming over to say such nice things! That made my day. xoxo
I agree. The itching is the absolute worst. I had my first waxing experience just last month (although I was not brave enough to go “all the way”). Haven’t decided whether I have the guts for a repeat yet.
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Oh, I read about your first waxing experience at http://www.thenextdelusion.com/bringing-maintenance-to-a-new-low/
That was awesome! Keep me posted on your decision.
I have never tried that. I am not that artistic but I am willing to give it a shot.
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I’m not really that artistic either. I think it’s the thought that counts. 😉
congrats on making it on Scary Mommy!
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Thank you! xoxo
The version on my site was better. *wink*
Grats on the Scary Mommy success!!
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Well, it did talk about poop, after all. 😉
This was soooooo funny. Great job. I’ve never thought of pubic hair art and now I’m killing myself laughing!
You should definitely consider pubic hair art. It’s amazing.
The pubic hair art reminded me of a stripper I once saw. She had her’s shaved into her first initial. Ah yes memories…..lmao
I have no doubt, Hugh. No doubt.
Wow. Just wow. Read this at halftime at my son’s football game. Completely inappropriate context. The dad sitting next to me says “I guess laughter is the best medicine” but his facial expression said “pay attention to the game you fucking idiot.” It was really hard not to tell him about you and the waiter. Or the lamppost.
I’m going to join the dollar shave club right now …
Inappropriate football laughter, FTW! I can’t wait to hear about your art.
This is a riot. And I feel your pain. About every 5 weeks, I feel your pain.
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Et tu, Brute?
Don’t wax it, shave it!!! I keep mine shaved all the time and I love it!!!!!
I do enjoy a good shave scintillation.
Ha! I’ve always wanted a Chili Pepper near my nether regions…..preferably Anthony Kiedis! All out sympathy for the waxing, I get my eybrows waxed, and that is where I draw the line!
That’s a smart line to draw. And, mmmmmm, Red Hot Chili Peppers…
Ok, I almost peed myself laughing at work! I promise it gets easier, I actually do my own now. I still get ingrown hairs but that gets better too. This was hysterically funny though, thanks for sharing.
Use deodorant, wipe it over the bare area, no more ingrown hairs! A secret from models 🙂
WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I GOT MY BRAZILIAN?! Seriously, though, thanks for the other people you’ve helped. xo
Happy to facilitate peeing at work. 😉 I’ve heard it gets better. I’m not willing to take that chance. Also, I’m broke.
Sooo funny!! Thank you for the much needed laugh today!
You’re very welcome! And thank YOU for reading and commenting. xo
Omgee! I had a similar experience with an at home DIY wax.
Having never done one before, I was clueless. I’ve had a salon wax and it was painful but quick and I enjoyed the results but the embarrassment factor pushed me to try it myself. Big big mistake.
I heated the wax as instructed or as I deciphered the instructions. I lost my decoder ring so I was kind of going in blind.
I plopped myself on the toilet and smeared the scalding hot satan liquid in a big and generous swath across my pubic bone. After jumping up and fanning my nether region, I reconsider my life choices but decided I had gone too far to turn back now.
I grabbed the cloth strip that came with the kit and gently pressed it to the wax. Taking a deep breath and bracing my legs around the toilet, I closed my eyes and prayed to all the gods above and yanked…I felt nothing.
I looked down and the wax was still there matted in my hair and the strip was bare. “Well…shit. Now what?” I figured the wax had cooled because of my jumping and fanning so I bravely applied more from the superheated jar and readdressed the strip but this time I pressed firmly. I made a second plea to the higher powers that be and held my breath and pulled again.
“What in the actual feck?!” It felt like I was being stung my very angry bees. I looked at the strip and happily found a concoction of hair and wax. Expecting baby smooth bliss I looked at my area and found nothing of the sort. What was left was lots of wax and lots of hair.
I grabbed the leaflet and frantically searched for instructions in this situation. I really didn’t want to apply more wax. It said to grab another strip and apply to my body and yank again in the opposite direction of the growing hairs or some stupid crap. So I bucked up and did it again.. and again and again…until the end of time. Nothing else was budging.
I decided I was done with the Guantanamo style torture and I was just going to wash my patching looking V and shave the rest. I applied a ton of soap and water to a rag and started to scrub fiercely…to no avail. If it’s possible I made it worse and matted the hair further but I kept at it. After several long minutes, I snatch up the stupid instructions that were sticking together with wax from previous futile attempts to make sense of the devils literature. I found no reprieve so I waded the useless instructions and threw them across the bathroom.
Now, since my hair was a matted mess and the wax had congealed to the consistency of Amber, I decided shaving would be my only viable option. I grabbed my razor and applauded myself for my cunning and began to shave my raw area with a newfound sense of purpose. What happened can only be describe as being kicked while you’re down.
It didn’t work, it didn’t unwax my waxed V-it literally did nothing. I sat back down on the toilet on the verge of hysterics and tried to coax some brilliance from my brain. My last ditch efforts were to grab the box to call the number that I was sure would be included in case of an emergency. As I grabbed Pandora’s Box I heard something shift inside. In that box I found the elixir of all the gods I had been praying to, in the form of a magical oil. After applying that oil to my sore and angry looking area, the wax released me from it’s destructive hold and I was free. I will NEVER use an at home was again. I’m now over my embarrassment and leave it to the professionals.
Oh and don’t try Ardells individual lashes either. That was a doozy as well.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Anna, I swear I’m not laughing at you–I’m laughing with you. Scalding hot satan liquid? devils literature? Guantanamo style torture?
You. Are. Awesome.
I just happened across this while searching for a place to get a Brazilian done at! If I wasn’t having second thoughts already, I certainly am now! Although hilarious, it did little to relieve my anxiety. Unfortunately, my boyfriends only request for our second anniversary, was for me to get waxed and be bare. Although, I am now wondering is pubic art would work instead.
Do it at least once. Just so you can say you did. (And then he’ll owe you. 😉 )
I have never read a more accurate (or hilarious) description of a Brazilian than yours. As I was laughing, I was reliving the pain of a similar present I gave my spouse for his birthday. He loved it! A year later, I still regret that “special gift” for the same reasons you listed. This year I gave him a different present: wireless speakers for his office. Much less painful!
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I’m so glad to hear I’m not alone. And, WIRELESS SPEAKERS!! Why didn’t I think of that?!
As someone who has been on the other side of hooha waxing, (yup, I have a license) that was freaking hysterical! I’m still wiping the tears from my eyes.
Some things that have gone through my head during these appointments:
“Holy shit, Bushwoman! Trim that shit every now and again!”
“Really, you couldn’t wait until AFTER your period to get this done?”
And lastly, “Stop trying to make this less awkward. You’re on all fours and I’m applying wax to you’re butt hole. It ain’t gonna happen.”
OMG, DONNA!! You’re KILLING me! You need to write a blog from the other perspective!! Those thoughts are hilarious. HILARIOUS. I would have LOVED to have known what was going through the brain of my waxer (sorry, I can’t spell the real title right now). Write it–I will come! (And bring friends.)
Waxing can be great. Your tech didn’t send you home w aftercare products which makes ingrowns a thig of the past!
This is what I’ve heard. But I don’t think I’m brave enough to try again.
I have laughed my ass off…hard!! Lol! And that NEVER happens before noon! Lady, you have a gift! I’ve shared with all of my friends and followed you on all available social media sites…keep it coming!!!!!
OMG that was some funny shit!!! I laughed until I cried. Thank you for your sharp and witty humor. Well done friend!
Ok, so I decided to do it. Got in there, laid down and assumed the position. She got one strip off. She looked at me, I looked at her… She knew, she left I got up and dressed, paid in full and gave her a great tip. Left NEVER TO RETURN!!!! Who the F**K does that, I said as I scuttled away…. Yep, the razor and I are friends, BEST of friends!!!!!
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I. just. died.
That was amazing. And completely deters me from any notion of ever trying a Brazilian.
This made me laugh so hard. I may be girl crushing on you a bit, but I’ve always been a sucker for a good laugh. Hahahaha