Wax On, Wax Off

I’m just going to say right off that bat that I really hope my parents don’t read this post, because I’m not sure how much they’ll approve of the topic we’re visiting today. What topic is that, you ask? Why, the magical world of bajingo waxing, of course!

See, I find this sort of thing wildly fascinating to hear about, but it’s not really a topic of conversation that gets brought up too frequently in my world. I mean, people need to know, you know?! And since I have now taken in my very first down-there waxing experience, I figured there might be a few other like-minded folks interested in hearing what all the fuss (or rather, what the fuzz — see what I did there?) is about. But, fair warning, if you’re not one of said folks, I strongly suggest X-ing out of your browser now, because who knows how quickly this conversation might deteriorate? I only have so many euphemisms for ladybits at my disposal, after all.

Anywho-ha, this all came about because in just a few not-so-short, very loooong-seeming days, I’ll be headed to the sunny sands of Cabo San Lucas. And, being that I pretty much plan on spending every waking moment of every day in my fatkini with a pina colada in one hand and my Kindle in the other, I thought it might be a good idea to head to Mexico with a, a-hem, clean slate, shall we say?

And since, as Miranda learned in Sex and the City, this face is pretty much the last thing you wanna see in response to your bikini line spillover:

I figured some preemptive steps might be a good idea. So I took to my friendly neighborhood Yelp and started doing research on waxing places. A few popped up, and after doing my due diligence, I ended up deciding to pay a visit to Sugar Baby Wax in Alexandria.

Now, I’ve been getting my brows waxed for years, so the general idea behind waxing as a hair removal technique is not exactly foreign to me. HOWEVER. One’s eyebrows and one’s chachi are not exactly the same thing, are they? And, being the masochistic individual I am, in the end I decided not just to get my bikini line cleaned up, but to take a full on visit to Brazil.

Spoiler alert: I’m bald.

Anyway, we’ve covered the why, so onto the ow. I mean, the how. We’re officially venturing into serious TMI territory here, folks, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I don’t even want to think about how many hoo-has my technician Valerie has come face-to-face with, because she was a total pro from start to finish. She asked me if I’d ever been waxed before, and walked me through the entire process when I informed her that this was my first time venturing below the browbone. She gave me a towel to drape over my nether-regions and left the room, instructing me to disrobe below the waist (I wore a maxi dress, so I just hiked it on up) and showing me that there were wipes in the changing area if I wanted to “freshen up” (which, as the conscientious and polite person I am, I really was worried about! #mindreader). So off came the laundry day granny panties, and I hopped up onto something that was reminiscent of the same kind of table-bench-thing you sit on at the gynecologist, only minus the classy stirrups.

She came back after a few minutes and all the security and safety I felt with that fluffy white towel draped over my thighs was literally whipped away within seconds. The towel came off. And there I was.

It took me a little while to get over the fact that I was on display like that (I’m a lady!) but Valerie was a consummate professional and never made me feel awkward about it at all. And from there on, it was pretty much what you would expect. On went the wax with a little tongue depressor-lookin’ thing, on went the fabric strip, off came it all. There was absolutely no double-dipping into the wax pot (run, don’t walk, from double-dippers!) and Valerie was wonderful at keeping my attention on her and not on the hair-stripping that was happening down below. She worked very quickly in small sections, and it was over before I knew it!

Of course, there’s one major part of this whole thing that I haven’t addressed yet: how much did it hurt? If I’m being totally, 100% honest… it really wasn’t bad! Believe me, I was SHOCKED. I expected to be wincing, tearing up, and breathing in through my teeth the whole time, but honestly, it was no worse than ripping off a bandaid. Just, you know, a lot of times in a row. And actually, it probably wasn’t even as bad as that.

Valerie was really great about keeping the conversation flowing, so there wasn’t too much time for me to worry about what was happening, and there were only one or two spots that stung enough to distract me from our conversation. Things did get a little bit awkward for me when I was told to hug my knees while she worked on the, er, rear-ish region (I basically just laughed obnoxiously through that part) but, again, it was quick and relatively painless.

After all was said and done, I got some soothing cream stuff for my tender, but hairless, skin, and that was that! It was definitely super weird at first, but I adapted pretty quickly, haha. Apparently regrowth takes anywhere from four to six weeks, although allegedly you might start seeing a few hairs earlier than that due to hair growth cycles (not 100% of your hair has surfaced at any given point – this is also the reason why laser hair removal has to be done over a long period of time.) Either way, I don’t think this is something that I’ll maintain on a long-term level, but to make vacations hassle-free (which is, of course, the whole point of a vacation, right?) then hey, why the hell not?

Have you ever ridden the bajingo waxing train? How do you maintain your down-there hair?