February is gone, and with it ends my month of Body Hair Laissez-Faire.
On one hand, the project was a big disappointment; not one reader joined me in razor-hiding, and I’m still waiting for the results of both e-interviews. Plus, I ripped out two brow hairs with my bare hands, thereby violating my own terms. Wine was involved, but that’s a story for another day.
On the plus side, the experiment injected a little much-needed novelty into my fiercely boring life, distracted me during my boyfriend’s month-long absence— and as predicted, resulted in far, far shorter showers.
To the photos!
February 28 was dark and rainy here, so I took pictures in the Fortress of Solitude‘s warm, yellow light. This sucked a bit, since my body hair is pale and stealthy even in decent lighting. So what appears to be a light coating of underarm lint…
was, in reality, a half inch of fine, light brown fur. Even blurry closeups don’t do it justice:
Likewise, this leg looks nearly hairless at a glance…
But don’t be deceived. It took a whole month to reach this point:
The Feb. 28 photo of my eyebrows was completely uninformative…
so I suffered through TWO EXTRA DAYS WITHOUT TWEEZERS just so I could take a pic once the storm had passed. No small feat, since having messy eyebrows drives me crazy. However, even a month without plucking doesn’t leave half the mess I expected.
I had half hoped that a month sans plucking would allow my eyebrows would thicken a little; I like bold eyebrows. But alas, I am a naturally thin-browed lady. My brows ARE slightly closer together now— years ago, I decided my eyes were too close together and tweezed my eyebrows a few hairs further apart to compensate. There’s no way that fooled anyone, so I’m finally ready to leave my eyebrows in their natural location.
If anything was worse than the stray brow hairs, it would have to be the stray BREAST hairs. Only a few hair, yes, and perfectly natural, yes… but goshamighty was I ready to bid them farewell.
*Imagine a photo of bare breasts with hair. I’m certainly not supplying one.*
One aspect of hairiness I truly enjoyed? My happy trail!
For reasons I can neither explain nor defend, I find happy trails intriguing. What better way to end this navel-gazing than by gazing at my navel?
That’s my story, folks. I have just left the shower, where I shaved off most of my hard-won body hair. I spared only the cute li’l happy trail, which I’ll keep as a souvenir. In one minute, I’ll pluck my eyebrows (at last! At last!) and dress for work.
But there’s still a lot more to say about body hair and American women. Stay tuned for more.
Have you ever let your body hair grow? Why or why not?