Jezebel
Every so often, there comes along a tale of the rites of female passage gone so terribly wrong that one is left trembling. I'm not talking about any of the fictitious tripe some unpaid Cosmo intern spit out for the "Confessions" column—I'm talking about the true-life horrors of that wildly popular version of genital mutilation known as The Brazilian. Not that I'm above dutifully visiting my doting waxer (what up, Maya!) every few weeks, spreading my legs and asscheeks with glee as she efficiently rips out my lady-hair until I'm shiny and bald like a fetus. I don't know when having public hair became the more exotic option, but ever since the first de-furring, I've been fully in favor of seeing my labia looking happy and oh-so-smooth. And yet, there is danger! An inexperienced waxer can cause mental anguish or, worse, serious physical trauma. None of us are immune, and no one is safe. (Even my own over-aggressive usage of Folisan too soon after an otherwise perfect wax can cause first-degree burns. Have you ever peeled dead flesh off of your ladyflower? Highly recommend it.) Anyhow: Isn't it about time we all apologize to our sensitive bits? Take, for example, the following from a reader, a journalist who ended up leaving her labia behind in the emergency room:
I need to apologize to my labia. I put them through so much, but this most recent injustice really deserves a public confession.
It started all when I moved to a new city, and went looking for a place to get a Brazilian. Several people recommended the "wax nazi" who worked in the back room of a just-sanitary-enough nail salon. I guess I should have known better than to trust my nethers to a "nazi," but when I heard her thick Russian accent I figured she got the name from someone who didn't know the difference between nyet and nein. I also should have known better when I saw the roll of duct tape sitting next to the warming pot of wax. But a friend had warned me about her unorthodox technique and said her method was no more painful than the traditional muslin strips.
So I took off my pants, hopped onto the table, and prepared to go to my happy place for the duration of the procedure. Unfortunately, the nazi started barking orders, and I realized the waxing wasn't going to be passive. "Bend zee leg." Okay, fine. "Press knee to table." Okay, fine. "Now, holt zee lip." Excuse me? "Holt zee lip. Here, give me hand, and holt here, tight." Okay, so she needed a little help holding the skin taught while she waxed. Fine. I continued following her instructions, feeling uncomfortable and hairy—the usual for a bikini wax.
So, all well and good until I heard a rip of the wax followed by a surprised grunt from the nazi. Hmmm. Something was wrong. Nazi was dabbing my inner thighs, presumably wiping off extra wax. Then she asked me to press a paper towel to my undercarriage. Again, not so weird since this had been an interactive experience from the beginning. Finally, she asked me to sit up. That's when I knew something was wrong. Not sure how to explain this so it doesn't turn into a horror story, but, well, I was bleeding all over the table.
I jumped up, and she started babbling in Russian. Every now and then she would switch to English and say something to the effect of, "Eez vine, eez vine."
"Actually," I said, "Eez not vine at all." In fact, it was so very far from fine.
In the next few hours, more people saw my vagina than have seen my vagina in my entire life. First, there was my roommate, followed by my best friend who worked at Planned Parenthood, her supervisor, the triage nurse at the hospital, the ER resident on duty, a rape counselor (summoned when no one believed what happened between my legs was really caused by a waxing accident), some students, some more doctors, a gynecologist, and finally there was the plastic surgeon called in for a consult.
He was the last person to see my vagina for a very, very long time, and his pronouncement was this: "Well, it's finally stopped bleeding, and it really could use some stitches. But, I'm afraid there isn't much left to stitch up." And that is why I must apologize. So:
Dear Labia,
I know we don't talk often. But Majora, Minora, listen: I still don't get which of you is which, but I know I hurt you both. You have protected me my whole life and I treated you so very badly. I know this happened months ago and you're still mad... but you survived, didn't you? And, hey, we really enjoyed those few weeks with the painkillers, didn't we? I just want you to know I've learned my lesson. One of you (Majora, I think) is meant to be covered with soft downy hair, and I hereby promise not to try and change that ever again.
Love,
Your Owner
You SO want the epilogue on this one: In the name of journalism and protecting his lady, this brave woman's even-braver boyfriend then went to see the same nazi for a back wax. He gave the nazi his business card, to which she said, "Oh! Someone from your publication came in last week! But it did not go so well because she had sex!" The boyfriend's all-too-knowing response: "Uh, no she didn't." Figures that a crazy bitch would try to cover up her mistake with some grotesque puritanical admonishment of pre-wax sex, which probably wouldn't make any difference even if you were slapping on the wax while riding cowgirl.
We know you have your own stories. Leave them in the comments, and perhaps we can heal together.
Comments
Wait, Cosmo's confessions are made up? There's nothing left to believe in.
p.s. this story makes me hurt too much to be able to come up with a decent comment on it.
Folisan does what??
I am happy to say that I don't have my own stories!
Um. I am not sure that I understand exactly what happened here, but I'm not sure whether I actually want to.
I feel lightheaded after reading that.
You know that phantom pain guys get when they see another guy get kicked in the balls? I think I'm experiencing that for the first time.
*eww* backwax.
The rest I can handle!
Sweet fancy Moses. This is why -- and maybe I am just fooling myself -- I spend twice the average cost (which I don't really have, since I'm an academic) and go to the superluxe place for the ladyflower deforestation. I mean, if the waxers are going practically to be sticking their thumbs up my twat for leverage, I need that place to be nicer than my gynecologist's office.
So wait... she doesn't know exactly what part of her body was mutilated? Did this lady rip the whole majora off? Is that possible?
Thanks, Jezebel. I was thinking of sucking it up popping that cherry FINALLY and then I read that.
You know what? Until the men I know start regularly waxing their back hair, I'm not doing it either. So there!
Umm...I know I will be in the minority here but here is my one an only experience with waxing: It hurt. It was red and bumpy so I still couldn't wear a bikini. Then the hair grew back. What is the point exactly?
I am all for just keeping the hedges trimmed. The BF was allowed to shave me once in the shower. But after he shaved sideways slicing me open, (Dumbass, doesn't he do his own face every day?!?!) his privileges were revoked.
Do us all a huge favor and post this on Deadspin.
Thanks.
Holy mother of OUCH, Batman! You know, when I started tending to the down-there parts, it was en vogue to shave it all off. One dude actually asked if he could shave it FOR me. I thought this was a fun novelty, so I went for it. This was followed by very uncomfortable, itchy jogging. And being told by my friend Hanna, the consummate hippie, that she would never remove the down-there hair for any dude.
Four years later, most guys prefer "the strip," easily accomplished by shaving the hair that would have to be removed anyway during bikini season. It's great to find that my man doesn't mind the fuzzies, so long as they're trimmed and maintained with my friendly Venus Vibrance. Ahh, life without bikini wax or full shave every 4 days is good.
I cut my labia once with a pair of scissors while trimming.
That wasn't fun.
maya at eve on bleecker? love her. love.
I have this tiny pair of scissors. I trim the hair (unless I shave it, which occasionally I do) and I am good to go. Waxing is a BAD idea. Then again, who knows when I am going to cut my inner labia in half.
@msb2: Oh god, just saw what you wrote after I posted. I can only imagine.
@msb2:
Oh Jesus Christ.
Also, welcome, Heather! and Heather's labiae!
Yep, Maya at Eve! She'll even pluck out ingrowns from the most festering of wounds.
@HookerfaceAnon: And on Fleshbot.
You know, ever since moving to LA, I've felt backward about my pubic hair (which is neatly trimmed and clean, not full on hippy-girl musk bush). And every time I've gotten to the point where I'm ready to start asking around about getting waxed, Jezebel posts something like this.
My labia thank-you, Jezebel, for helping us stay strong.
THIS is the exact reason I've been a real wuss about the thought of someone coming at my lady bits with hot wax, I have a hard enough time psyching myself for an eyebrow wax. Never liked going down there with a razor blade either, I did find this nifty little "Finishing Touch" trimmer at CVS for 10 bucks in the section that sells all that stuff you see on TV. I swear by it!
I'm afraid of all of it! I hate trimming because I've got butterfingers and I don't want to accidentally have sex with little scissors. I hate waxing because it hurts. I hate shaving because it grows back so quick. But I hate having a hairy vadge. Waxing is the most acceptable of all, IMO, but that lady's story made my vadge pulsate and recoil in horror!
I once had an (inexberienced? bad? masochistic?)waxer inform me after a particularly wince-inducing section that, "C'mon all those boys in Iraq are suffering EVERY DAY, this is nothing."
omg noesssss
the horror
I once went to get my eyebrows waxed and I broke out in a horrible rash. Wouldn't dream of doing that to my special bits, because it would probably look like herpes.
Tweeze the eyebrows, trim the bush, and all's well.
As long as it is cleaned and neat, who cares? I mean, sex. Are you complaining?
still haven't even been brave enough to go get it waxed. hell, i don't wax my eyebrows, let alone some of the most sensitive, vascularized tissue on my body. it's just wrong. wrong, wrong, wrong. nothing should hurt that much in the name of aesthetics. barbaric.
I needed smelling salts after reading this.
Jesus Christ. I skipped over most of that as I was reading because I was getting woozy. I also don't understand the waxing. a) I have super sensitive skin and get little red bumps if I even think about it. b) I find a fully waxed vag a little too...porno, in a bad way. like, humans have hair. deal with it. c) I kind of don't want men to win on this one - if I have to lick your hairy balls, you will have to deal.
The situation with my flange is reversed. It treats me badly. The only thing it and I agree on is sex. We both like sex. We'll work as a team for sex. But other than that, ever since puberty it has subjected me to an endless stream of thrush, cystitis, random urinary pain, minor swellings (one particularly painful memory springs to mind, in which one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen turned out to be the emergency gyny on nightshift at St George's Hospital. He stared in bewilderment and horror at my spread genitals for 15 minutes before saying; "I'm sorry, I have absolutely no idea what that might be.") and general constant maintenance issues.
So for me, vicious hair-removals are my revenge and hell. they are my damn right.
@thenwemadeout: Well, obviously, they are to shave their balls and trim the man-bush in solidarity with your hairless vadge.
I've never had that area waxed, I know shaving isn't the most fun thing to do but I'll make that sacrifice. I remember being at the beach with my friends family, I must have been 11 or so, and his mother had red welts on her thighs and pubic area. I told my friend his mother had herpes and he told me to go eff myself. She later sat me down and told me that the welts were from waxing "which is something you'll know about when you get older." Because of that comment I've never done it, I'll go a long way just to prove someone wrong.
I don't even have a labia but this story made me want to cry.
and that is why i go to the expensive place with nice indian ladies who have been doing this for the last 10 million years.
i am in absolute horror.
Why the fuck do women do this to themselves? And fuck the idea of doing it because it's just *expected* nowadays. If some man doesn't want to come near my vajayjay just because I don't want to bring hot wax or a razor blade in contact with it, then he doesn't DESERVE to get anywhere near it.
This reminds me of a much worse incident I read about in another blog a few weeks ago (think it was actually an ad community blog) where a woman went in for a waxing session. Ended up getting a massive infection after she left, though she waited until she was so swollen and sore that she could barely move or touch the area before going to the ER.. ended up taking heavy doses of antibiotics to clear it up. When her ladyparts were just only slightly recovering, she decided it was time for another waxing (wtf?!?), and went back to the same place. Ended up getting infected again.
Crazy mofo.
(even worse: she was 19, and it was her first, and second, experience with waxing. That would have been enough to set me on the wilder, woolier path in her shoes)
@shuffler & @sinnesloeschen:
It was hard to wear underwear with a piece of skin missing down there but it miraculously healed quite quickly. I have magical labia skin.
@hystericalredhead: That's about the time I would hit the waxer in the face and never return to that place of business.
I had thought about going the whole waxing route last fall but then on of my good friends had a bad wax. Almost a year later that horror had worn off. Thank you for rejuvenating my horror of a stranger possibly hot wax damaging my lady parts, so that my lady parts may never need rejuvenation because of a bad wax.
I waxed my shit myself (with the husband's help) last weekend.
My vision went all white and I almost punched the shit out of him, but the good thing about doing it at home is that you get to leap up, stomp around like a cartoon giant, and take a giant gulp of beer.
@Aut0mat1c: Word.
And oh, BTW girls: if you're doing this for your guys, they don't really care. We may comment favorably on the baby-ass smooth ones we see on the porno, but truth be told, nothing better than coming up with a few flecks of hair in the mouth.
Well, except for this @thenwemadeout
@myself: Just noting that I do realize that the "nowadays" bit made me sound ridonkulously old. Fuckit.
@Smackdown: That cute mental image is helping to wipe away this horror enough so that I may possibly eat something at lunch. Thanks.
No waxy for me. Ever. When all men do it, too, then I'll do it.
@Smackdown: That's pretty much what I did after reading this post. Vicarious twat-torture, DO. NOT. WANT.
Damn. I'll trim the bushes, but no deforestation.
If I have been OK with NOT waxing myself back to my prepuberty days all my life...why exactly should I do it now?
Because that damn show about shoes and sex made the MEN and women of flyover states even aware of the man-induced vanity mutiliation that is the brazillian wax?
I know too many guys who have the top of their back beards popping out the top of the collars of their shirts...
and say beyond assinine things like "That's a crime against God" when they hear that women get breast reductions because...OH, THE SHAME OF THE CRIME...sometimes big boobs hurt!
When men evolve and care as much about how THEY look in their nethers as they care about how I DO....MAYBE then I will care enough to CONSIDER that exercise in grooming futility to be something other than the male fantasy driven product of an unhealthy preoccupation with prepubescent vadges...
OR just yet another way women are driven to hate ourselves and our beautiful, natural bodies so much that we would endure physical pain and bleeding in the hope that some stupid man (with hair wherever he pleases to grow it with abandon) will look upon us in our naked hairless glory and say, "Wow...that's hot."
Isn't the monthly bleeding and bloating enough people? Don't we suffer enough?
Leave it alone.
What's wrong with a nice, trimmed, clean vadge, people?
Stop the madness.
To clarify, I am not even blaming all this ON men...on their requests, comments, etc.
I DO know that some actually have said to friends of mine..."why don't you do that? I'd love it if you did that."
BUT...I know women... not even directly or indirectly coerced into it with words or gestures...who do it because they THINK (based on what...media? porn? friends? the Internets?) they if they do it...when they do get a guy in bed, he'll love it so much that he'll stay forever.
Which is crazy.
@Heather: For anyone in LA I just have to let you in on the amazingness that is Eve at Thibiant Spa. She makes the "procedure" as pain free as it gets and is most importantly QUICK . Apparently (and I know this bc I have asked) the key is pulling the skin taught in the right places and also never going within a week of your period when your skin is at its most sensitive.
That concludes this public (pubic?) service announcement.
My horror has subsided now (after ten minutes of whimpering) and now I just have one question:
Isn't this the perfect place for a "do not want" lolcat?
Trimming is just fine by me and, maybe more importantly, fine by my man. I thank whatever gods may exist for that! I tried waxing my eyebrows once and ended up bruised for a week. I can't imagine someone, a "Nazi" no less, waxing off my labia. Eeeewwww.
I gotta love a website where were are allowed to openly discuss our labias!
Umm, when every man starts waxing I will laugh at them and still not do it.
The thing about Brazilians? Trying sprinting for a cab with no shrubbage down there. Yowwwww. Pantyburn.
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