This morning I rolled out of bed, groggy and most likely still hungover from NYE, and readied myself for my morning appointment.
Today, I was going to have my first Brazilian wax. Oh yeah.
So I did my research, reading review after review on Yelp , and settled on a place that had fantastic reviews, and was conveniently in my hood. Le Wax Boutique earned a reputation for being a prime waxing salon. It's owner, Sarah, having come from another upscale wax boutique, The Undercarriage, already had numerous accolades under her belt, so it's no wonder Le Wax was successful from the get-go.
I walk in, Sarah introduces herself. She's going to be my wax specialist. I'd already read several reviews about her specifically, so I was very relieved to find out my first experience was with the owner. She was very friendly, offered me a beverage and showed me to the room. Off came the pantalones, I hopped on the table, lifted my skirt, and put my feet together in a lotus position. Let us commence with Vag-Wax-Fest, 2010 edition.
Sarah walks in. We start talking about NYE, and away we go. Warm wax on the yoni feels nice, btw. She lays down a strip and Zzzziiip! Zzzziiiip! Zzzziiip! Wow, not really as painful as I thought. Surprisingly efficient and only slightly stingy, Sarah continues on. We chit chat about sushi restaurants, shopping, etc... She's really good at distracting you when-RRRRIIIIIIP MOTHER OF ALL OYSTER PEARLS SUCK MONKEY FUCK DUCK YEEEOW!! OK, that was definitely not cool. Oooowwweeeee. It's official, my she-box hates me. Palms are starting to sweat, the nether regions begin to throb, and I'm pretty sure I'm clenching. Oh-ho-hooo there are definitely some parts of the snatch patch that DO NOT like this. Ugggghhhh. A few more zips and Thank Gawd she's done... or so I thought.
"I need you to lift your knees to your chest."
"I'm going to wax your fanny."
If I were wearing panties, they'd definitely be in a bunch. This is getting waaaay too personal. Unclench, Kim, unclench. OK, just breathe. She's a professional, we'll get through it. Sarah continues to chat about the mad rush before the holidays, how so many women are trying to get their vaginas waxed before the New Year, and how nice it is to have a break, yadda, yadda. Zzziiip, zzziip, zzziiip!
"K that's it. We're done! Here's some wax removing lotion, use the towel to remove it, and I'll see you outside."
Really? Sweet baby Jesus it's over. She leaves the room, and I look down to ogle my freshly waxed pudendal entry. It's totally bald. I mean all hair gone. What was a fuzzy muff-mess of hair, now looks like a bald Buddha smiling back at me! My yoni is dizzy from the event, but happy to be liberated from its previously bristly confines :)
I have to say I'm quite pleased with the effect. It feels great to have a freshly clear cut love jungle. It's like walking out of the salon after a great haircut. Although just a smidge sore, I feel shiny and new.
It's a brand new day for the Beav. Hooray!
*reader's note: all vagina euphemisms provided by Sex-Lexis
and no, I will not be posting pics anytime...ever.