While channel surfing last week, I landed on a scene on that new program Wonderland where a bunch of women (I don’t watch the show so stay with me) were discussing the virtues of the Brazilian wax. The girls were all hanging out together in a day spa of some kind (as you do) and were encouraging Brooke Satchwell’s character to go hair free for the first time. Anyway, spoiler alert, she has a Brazilian, has great sex afterwards, feels “free” blah blah never looks back. Late to the Brazilian Party.
I must confess that as I watched, I thought to myself “Oh, how cute that Brooke Satchwell’s fictional character has only just discovered the Brazilian.” And then I realised there have been a number of things I’ve been late to the party on too:
1.The scoop and grab
Getting dressed to go out a few weeks back, I was complaining to my husband about my post breastfeeding cleavage, or to be more accurate the lack thereof. The problem was, the dress I was wearing sucked everything in but also flattened down what’s left of my post baby breasts.
“Why don’t you do that scoop thingy?” My husband offered helpfully.
“Say what now?”
“You know. The scoop thingy.” He proceeded to stick his hand into my bra, skillfully scooping each boob into the centre. Instant cleavage. I felt like I’d cracked some secret code of womanhood.
“My god!” I said, admiring my new Victoria’s Secret parade-worthy rack. “How was I not aware of this before? How did you even know about this?”
“Everybody knows about it,” my husband said, waving a google search result under my nose. “Here look. It’s called the scoop and grab.”
Well there you go. Scooped and grabbed indeed.
After a failed experiment with one of my mother’s bright red lipsticks when I was about 17, the result of which left more colour on my teeth than on my lips, I became more of a clear gloss kind of girl. If I was feeling really brave, the gloss might have had a slight red tint to it.