It was late on a weekend, painfully prying wax from my bikini line, that I finally gave in and admitted to myself that I was bad, like really bad, at this whole ‘woman’ thing.
I was raised in a predominately female family (single mother, two older sisters, nosy grandmother, cliché, etc. etc.). So, I should have, by twenty at least, mastered the ways of (basic) womanhood. I had all the right pieces of the puzzle: two perfectly blonde sisters who mercilessly mocked 12-year-old me for a steadily advancing brown mono-brow, a dodgy 50-something-year-old ‘beautician’ (I use that word loosely, she operated out of a back room of her suburban home) who waxed my mum’s face while giving me hair advice, and a well-meaning grandmother who constantly asked my chubby PCOS hormone-imbalanced sister what diet she was on that week.
And yet, by 20 I still wasn’t able to follow basic instructions on the back of a box of Easy Gel Wax strips (note: the use of ‘easy’ by this company should be a case for consumer law, really). I set myself up on my bedroom floor, not wanting to alert my housemates by spending that long in the bathroom with no water sounds, and only the echo of Arrested Development playing from my laptop.
From the Ancient Egyptians to now. This is the hair history of pubic hair.
Top Comments
I've started removing my pubic hair at 15. I was virgin until 22. I did it entirely for myself because I had really heavy periods and hated the added issues it created. Five years ago I had laser hair removal and love the results. Coincidentally, my husband would prefer I had a little hair down there but he doesn't get a say!
My mother - about 60 then - had a female doctor gasp and comment in surprise at the presence of her (sparse & trimmed) public hair during a routine appointment. Totally unprofessional, but you'd think a doctor would understand the basics on biology. This doctor was close to my mother's age too.