waxing poetic

somewhere along the way someone failed in teaching me about lady things. or, more likely, my mom tried valiantly to teach me lady things and i opted out with a forceful, "UH MUH GAH, mom! GROSS! i do not want to talk about that stuff EVER and most definitely not with you!!!!"

but perhaps it's a generational thing. case in point; here's a CLASSIC story from vincent family history:

i had graduated high school and gone to play volleyball at georgia tech. the locker room therein was my first experience with community showering. so i got something of a crash course on the grooming habits of girls my age (of course, with about 5 sassy, wild,  europeans on the team, my sample may have been slightly skewed toward the exotic).

suffice to say, i adapted accordingly. it's hard enough being a freshman without standing out in your swimsuit zones. no big deal. it's not like anyone outside of my volleyball team would be spectating up in there. 

i went home after my first semester. christmas vacation would prove the perfect time to have my wisdom teeth taken out. when i came out of surgery, so very high on anesthesia, i had to go to the bathroom. my mom took my drooling self and helped me as she hadnt had to in about 15 years.

a few days later when i was de-chipmunked and back to normal my mom pulled me aside and said, "katie, i have to ask you something, because i have seen stories about doctors doing things to their patients, but when i took you to the bathroom at the oral surgeon, i couldnt help but notice all of your pubic hair was gone."

and then i promptly died a thousand deaths. all of the blood in my body attempted to spontaneously exit through my face.

i'm not sure what was most horrifying: my mom and i acknowledging my secret zones in the stark, un-medicated light of day, and that she was now aware of my newfangled grooming regime or that she was asking because she was afraid that my dentist had taken liberties THERE while i was under anesthesia (of all things for a perv to do!)

i squeaked out something about it being the year 2000 and to please not report Dr. McCleod to "dateline" and we NEVER spoke of it again.

funnily enough, after 12 years i was over the embarrassment of this encounter (double childbirth makes a little pube story look like a freaking nursery rhyme) and ready to talk about it.  i started to tell my 3 older girls cousins this story last christmas, and they stopped me halfway through and were like, "yeah, we know. your mom called our mom that night to ask if this was something girls your age did or if she should be worried."

glad to know my inner sanctum has been public family knowledge for nigh on 10 years.

on that note, todays blog post:  at the ripe age of 30 i learned about waxing. 

i got my eyebrows threaded and a leg and [somewhat perfunctory] bikini wax before my wedding. this was the extent of my exotic foray into the wild world of outside-the-home ladies' hair removal.

since i was a late bloomer and not the hairiest person anyway, i didnt have to shave my armpits until i was about 20 and the whole vilification of the bikini area was a mystery to me. outside of personal/partner's preference (or a desire to not get beat up in the showers by a hungarian), i didnt really understand why are we were supposed to wage war on THIS section of peach</> gorilla fuzz?.

but nature has since made up for my late entry into the world of lady-scaping. she has detected that i am no longer a maiden and knows that my genes have been dutifully passed on, and she clearly sees fit to just let things run wild in all sorts of new and exciting places, no matter what species it may scare off....or possibly even harbor.

then, like 4 different times in one week, i had a friend mention "getting waxed."  these are not the freaky-naughty, urban-dwelling, "sex-in-the-city" friends that i would have previously pictured discussing this topic...these were all suburban, church-going, moms-of-many, uber whitebread chicas.

and they were NOT referring to the virginal bride's pre-coital, middle-of-the-road, discuss it without blushing, brand of  tame vanilla bikini wax.

no no. they were all, without exception, referring to a far more...shall we say, comprehensive, situation.

as in, the next summer olympiad will be held in the city of Rio De Janeiro, in the country of Comprehensive.

are you with me?

so after many glowing reviews and reassurances from these ladies (who all of a sudden seemed much more exotic in my eyes as i tried not to stare straight through their pants) i decided to take the plunge. or rather, let a trained professional take a plunge toward me.

my friend nikki offered to usher me into this new territory ( i also took a beginner's trip to the same place a few weeks before to get my eyebrows waxed with my hippie friend liz as kind of a no-pressure dry run, as it were. it was like dolphin skin!!!).

not the most informative BEFORE picture, for our purposes, but i assure you that things were very BEFORE.

even with the emotional support of having a friend go along with me, i knew i couldnt get through this experience without a little more courage. so we packed wine.

 we sat in the [parked] minivan before our appointments and enjoyed my $5 bottle of wine.  like all the classy ladies do.

we split off to out respective rooms with our respective "technicians." i had showered at the last possible moment before leaving my house, but was nonetheless cheered to spot baby wipes on hand as i was left alone to disrobe from the waist down. in case i ever need to swing by after a jog, i now rest easy that everyone would be protected from toxic grundle shock.

unlike the more tame bikini wax, the brazilian experience has no use for the polite little disposable panties. being ever-so-grateful for my liquid fortification i laid down on the massage table, which was all crinkly from being covered with a roll of paper like at the pediatrician, under the fluorescent lights. i was like some  god-awful modern centaur: casual shopper woman  from the waist up, crazy nakie-on-a-table-at-4pm-on-a-friday lady from the waist down.

in these situations, i almost think the full monty would be less painful.  having to wear my bra and shirt just  makes it too easy to remember what it was like back when i was among the normal, clothed population, whose vaginas are safely ensconced and more than a few centimeters away from anyone's eyelashes. oh, to be one of them again!!!

things only got more real as my lady came back in. she asked if i was nervous and i told her about the wine.   she said that was a no-no because it can make you prone to bleeding a little bit, but i was like, "well, i had no choice, mia bella (my portuguese after a glass or so of wine is flawless),  because no WAY could i do this without the assistance of about 12 ounces of awesome."

i was reassured by the fact that my technician was the actual owner of the salon and a true-blooded brazilian herself. hell, if i cant have the paper panties, at least give me a language barrier to cover myself with.

the worst part was getting into the appropriate positions. it's like OB/GYN stirrups on steroids but without even the shield of "i'm doing this for my health."

i chatted like an insane maniac the entire time and refused to imagine what was going on from her point of view. i mostly just laughed really loud at the ceiling like a fool.  it really didnt hurt that bad, and i do think the wine was instrumental in getting me through the mental anguish of the whole affair.

when i reunited with nikki in the waiting room, it was so hard not to laugh like 7th graders. the whole thing is just preposterous. 

 an interesting choice for their pumpkin decoration.

i will say that i liked the results. the overall effect lasted about 10 times longer than shaving and had none of the insanely irresistible itching and irritation after the fact (which always seem to strike me in the middle of church!). 

so far everyone i have told about this is like, "oh yeah! i totally get that done too." even the most straight-laced chicks whom i expect to be scandalized when i drop my comprehensive bomb act like, oh yeah, girl! that's ladyhood 101. didnt cha know!?!

i guess i have just been a raging luddite all these years, brandishing my schick quattro at my nethers like some  ignorant cavewoman.

so now that i have been educated, i had to share this discovery with all of yall (my dad might protest the "had to" portion of that sentence.)

we walked a few stores down and had that paragon of lady meals: salads and water, and chatted for a good long time. 

after about 3 hours and a meal we had determined that our 1.5 glasses of wine had safely left our systems and went for a spot of shopping where i forced nikki to buy her first ever pair of skinny jeans (she looks HOT in them). ladies gots to help other ladies try new things, yall. that's the moral of this story.

we have already planned our second installment of WWSS (wine/wax/salad/shopping) and i cant wait.

p.s. jesse thoroughly endorses the previous message. just sayin'.


  1. holy crap. this made me laugh so hard.

  2. oh this story made my day. my best friend STILL takes a shot or two of jameson before she goes in. congratulations on taking the plunge into the depths of brazilian waxing! after my first time, i swore off the razor forever!

  3. Keight, This is the funniest thing I have read in ages! I have thought about "gritting my teeth and thinking of England" and Going Brazilian! But, at my age (56), I can't stand the thought - wine or no wine. So, here I am , wishing I had your courage and savvy. Would be nice if I had someone to notice if I took the plunge. But for now, I'm gonna have to keep dealing with that pesky church pew prickling.

  4. I've been on the cusp of a brazillian for ages now. I had one scheduled back on the eve of my wedding 10 years ago, but chickened out at the last second.

  5. I love everything about this entry, but I think "toxic grundle shock" is my favorite phrase ever. Let's start a band.

  6. I love everything about this, but I think "toxic grundle shock" is my new favorite phrase. Let's start a band!

  7. YOU ARE HILARIOUS! I am in college and most of my friends go bald down there but since we can't afford a regular wax schedule, we have to make do with "brandishing our shick quattros at our nether regions" hahaha

  8. Get it, girl. I was all signed for a wax pre-wedding when my wise and sage friend literally grabbed my arm and said NO! You must be sugared instead. Yes, sugar. But a sugarist. Anybody ever hear of it? It's just as effective but less painful. They may have said something about it being more sanitary too, but I never quite figured that part out. I was too scared, but it was all for naught. No regrets, YOLO and stuff.

  9. Get it, girl. BTW, first time commenter, long time non-creepy blog stalker, promise. I was all prepared (mentally and physically) to get waxed pre-wedding when my wise and sage bestie literally grabbed my arm and said NO! You must be sugared instead. Yep, with sugar, by a sugarist. Anybody ever hear of this? It's just as effective as wax, without most of the pain. They may have said something about it's more sanitary but I was still gripping the table in fear at that point. It was all for naught. I was well-pleased and have to recommend it to anyone who enjoys a waxing on the regs. YOLO and stuff.

  10. I did this a couple of times, but what bothered me was the "growing in" part during the summer. It grows much slower than after shaving, but by the time you go back after 4-6 weeks there is definitely some frontage, and I couldn't wear a swimsuit At least with shaving you can stay on top of things. I'm curious to know if your opinion will change come June or July!

  11. I did this a couple of times, but what bothered me was the "growing in" part during the summer. It grows much slower than after shaving, but by the time you go back after 4-6 weeks there is definitely some frontage, and I couldn't wear a swimsuit At least with shaving you can stay on top of things. I'm curious to know if your opinion will change come June or July!

  12. You have courage I know not of. I barely get through all those prenatal visits with my babies and I hate it every time. Maybe someday you'll convert me...but not yet. Oy.