I bought these new heels, did my nails
Had my hair done just right
I thought this new dress was a sure bet
For romance tonight
Well it’s perfectly clear, between the TV and beer
I won’t get so much as a kiss
As I head for the door I turn around to be sure
Did I shave my legs for this?
-The eternal words of Deana Carter
Deana Carter, thank you. You truly understand the inner workings of my soul. Did I shave my legs for this? That pretty much sums up the first ten years of my dating life. Well, that and, if I feign food-borne illness can I make it home in time for Everybody Loves Raymond? Well ladies, I don’t claim to be a miracle worker and I haven’t found a bomb-proof way to escape a bad date, but I have discovered a life-changing invention that pretty much guarantees that, no…you did not shave your legs for this!
In truth my pursuit of the perfect hair-removal technique can be likened to Ponce De Leon’s desperate search for the Fountain of Youth. How, you might ask? Well, to be honest I don’t know that much about Ponce De Leon, and I’m really not in a researchy kind of mood, so let’s just suffice it to say because it’s my blog and I can make outlandish claims if I so desire. Anyways, if you’re like me, you’ve tried just about every gimmicky hair-removal technique in the book (and if you’re like me you think fuselage is a fun word to say).
Waxing left me sitting on the bathroom floor weeping (Moaning Myrtle-style) with my red-bumpified, bleeding, burning sticky legs still covered in hair! Well hair and wax, which ornamented my legs for several days in the aftermath of what I’ve come to call the Great Waxing Catastrophe of 2008. Anyways, I’d like to go on record saying it went nothing like in this commercial:
But that’s ok, because Nair equals dancing in the streets with your gal pals. Nothing beats a mini flash-mob on a Saturday afternoon. Especially when it’s on an abandoned city street or a fire escape like in this commercial:
All this time what I sought was right in front of my face – Nair will make my legs completely hairless, and longer, skinnier and more toned! Plus I’ll be better looking and I’ll hang out with a very attractive, ethnically diverse group of groovy chicks who might I add have a superb sense of fashion.
Too bad the Nair didn’t work and alas, my legs are still midgety.
In the years to follow I tried several other “leg hair remedies” including the Jergan’s lotion that slows hair growth and the oversized emery board known as the SmoothAway. I even tried rubbing a few antique lanterns hoping to meet a genie with a knack for cosmetics. Unfortunately nothing proved successful. Dejected, I finally resigned to the fact that shaving (every damn day because I’m half Italian) is the only feasible way to keep my leg hair at bay. Cue my pursuit of the ever-unobtainable perfect razor – but that story is for another post.
But then something amazing happened. In the first month of my 26th year, a gift was bestowed upon me – a beacon of hope in today’s society that has no need for leg hair, wisdom teeth or an appendix for survival. So what is this invention I speak of? Only the most amazing gadget since the dawn of time: the epilator (specifically the Braun Silk-Epil Xpressive, which features 40 tweezers and can be used on wet or dry skin!). Epilators look like men’s electric razors, but, in a style suited only for the sex that likes to torture themselves into perfection, totally obliterate your leg hairs by yanking them straight from the root. Works like a charm and you don’t have to go through the absolute debacle that inevitably ensues every time you attempt to wax your legs!
Now go forth all ye ladies and epilate. Epilate leg hair into an evolutionary nonentity! Then we can all get together and perform the synchronized club dance we worked on last week. I’ll see you on the fire escape. Bring your short shorts.
Disclaimer: Sorry, but as amazing as it is, epilating still hurts like the dickens! Also thanks Ben for being an amazingly awesome gift-giver. Another practical gift from my favorite engineer!