Memories of the Waxing Fiasco of 2012 flashed across my mind- that time in college when I tried to give myself a Brazilian because my roommate told me she did her own all of the time. Tip: If it’s your first time or you’re a little body conscious, wear a tunic or long tee the day of, so you can cover-up leading up to and immediately after waxing. After all, hadn’t I come -quite literally- to “bare it all” anyway? I took a moment to breathe a grateful sigh of relief for the serendipitous chance that I’d worn a tunic that day, so I wouldn’t have to mount the waxing table bare-bottomed. I also waited for her to hand me a robe, but when she turned away and began stirring a vat of wax, I realized very quickly that privacy was obsolete in this setting. But, it was still somewhat nerve-racking to walk into a room and be asked -very politely- to “strip down from the waist down.” If I’m completely honest, I’ll admit that I paused for a moment to give my wax specialist, Ambure, time to leave the room while I undressed. I should note here, that at this point I have literally bared it all in the name of beauty-my body having served as the site of many a social beauty experiment. I was also just pleased that I’d actually gone through with it.
Either way, I felt as though I’d joined a tribe.
Women in these areas simply don’t do hair “down there.” In fact, upon leaving the European Wax Center, I felt a lightness of being-or perhaps it was more of a sleekness given my newly acquired ‘do. There’s something about New York, LA and certainly Miami that make waxing a lifestyle. I have a theory that waxing below the belt is a very metropolitan thing to do. In many respects, getting a Brazilian is a rite of passage a leaving behind of one’s childhood and entering into a smoother, sleeker future- one paved in wax.
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