Okay. So I’m pretty sure you clicked this blog post because you wanted to know if you should get a Brazilian wax. For those of you who are unaware, a Brazilian wax is a grooming technique employed by those who are blessed with vaginas. It is the waxing of the the vulva, mons pubis, labia, perineum and anus. Please educate yourself if you are not aware of the body parts I just mentioned. And as I feel it is my inherent duty as a vagina owning citizen to educate those of you who are a.) unaware of your own anatomy and b.) those who do not own vaginas but still love them, I have dutifully found and conspicuously placed an appropriate and realistic model for your inspection! Please note the clitoris for those of you who have no idea where to begin looking for one when you try and please a woman.
On that note. I would like to present the meat of the matter. I absolutely did get a Brazilian. So, you are more than welcome to consider me a subject mater expert! Let me explain how that came to be and whether or not you should get one too! So I have this friend right? Her name is Monica. Monica had been suggesting I get a Brazilian for the longest. Upon her first proposition I looked at her with horror. Are you fucking serious? Why would I want to wax my pussy?! She wasn’t phased by my obvious resistance. In fact she proceeded to tell me how a Brazilian, which she fondly calls a b-wax, could change my life. Only, as helpful as she was, she failed to tell me how and why. What she did tell me is that I wasn’t the first friend she had recruited for a Brazilian. She giggled fondly as she recalled the memory of a friend writhing in agony, crying even, in the midst of a Brazilian waxing. And the most intriguing detail of the story? This friend now gets a Brazilian wax regularly. I looked at Monica’s face with skepticism. Was this all for her amusement? Did she want me to get a wax as some kind of entertaining debacle for her to remember fondly?
Out of curiosity I did do my research. I mean, I’m not going to lie to you. The thought of waxing my intimate parts was more than frightening to me. What I learned did not calm my fears. First, in order to get a Brazilian, there must be a minimum of a 1/4 to a 1/2 inch of hair. If you have a massive bush I would suggest a trim…otherwise well….I’d rather not imagine it. Secondly, don’t do any crazy shit, or use any crazy products on your pubic area before getting a wax. All you need to do is provide a clean, tidy and somewhat furry–BUT NEAT–pubic area. That’s it. The rest will be handled by your aesthetician. Honestly after investigating on google I still found it difficult to justify pouring a hot viscous substance down miss thang and having strips of my hair ripped violently out of their pores. So I sat on the idea for at least a month or two. During this time I cannot lie. I stopped shaving. The break from razors was much appreciated by my skin. Interestingly enough, one of the benefits to waxing over shaving, is that it greatly reduces the risk of dreaded ingrowns and because the hair is well, aggressively being snatched out of your snatch, the itchiness associated with the blunt edges that razors/scissors/clippers can cause is pretty much eliminated. Eventually I woke up one day one feeling hairy, and two bold. I was gonna get that thang waxed. I sheepishly held conference with Monica. She did what any loving friend would do. She looked me in the eyes, and with confidence told me I could handle it. It’s gonna hurt. But you’re a strong woman. You can do this! I have to admit, the balls it took to schedule my wax, and walk my virgin nether regions into that lobby….they were brass through and through.
As the good friend she was, Monica referred me to a tried and true Brazilian wax boutique that also specialized in sugar scrubs. My nerves were incredible. I silently prayed that I wouldn’t regret my decision to follow Monica’s advice. I prayed for my pussy.
The shallow breaths you take just before realizing something that could change your life…That’s how I was breathing. My hands trembled nervously. When I entered the boutique the receptionist was friendly. She greeted me and had me complete some paperwork. My eyes bulged in terror as I signed a document agreeing that I was aware and would waive all culpability in the case that tearing, that may require stitches, should result from the waxing.
WTF?! Call me a bitch, but my inner self was freaking out. Tearing? Stitches? The idea of having my labia ripped from my body like wet toilet tissue was almost nauseating. I asked the receptionist about the waiver I had signed and she casually mentioned it was mostly for people who were on certain medications. As long as I was up front about that, I would more than likely be leaving without injury. She saw the worry in my eyes and remembered then that she had wine to offer me. I graciously accepted.
Eventually my aesthetician appeared. She shook my hand and directed me to a back room. It was pretty bare save a table with what appeared to look like a crock pot. Her table was covered in waxing tools. I stepped into the room awkwardly. It was entirely casual the way she instructed me to undress. I silently panicked. Am I to strip entirely? Because for those of you who don’t know, during a woman’s wellness exam, which is gynecological in nature, you get butt ass naked whether your breast are examined or not. I rolled the dice and removed only my shorts. I was a total skank and opted not to wear underwear. I was coming off a fresh shower though so you can’t call me a dirty skank. Anyway, I looked at her and she beckoned me to to the table. I guess I was naked enough for her.
She instructed me to lay back, and I remember thinking how this must feel similar to getting illegal butt shots. Yeah, flash to that crazy scary scene in Lola’s Gotta Have It where Shamika gets back alley butt injections. Her “technician” offers her drugs and alcohol before the procedure.
Where was her licence? Why would they give me wine? Why did I sign a liability waiver? She asked me to butterfly my legs. I found this strange as I absolutely wondered if you could get everything like that. She asked me if this was my first time and I nervously agreed that it was. She then asked me if I had used a numbing cream. What? She laughed and said that there were a large number of creams and sprays that women could use to numb the pain. My palms began to sweat at her comment. This was really about to kill me. I was going to to die by having my pubes ripped out of my soul and I was too busy trying to prove to myself that I wasn’t rooster to save my vulva from being shredded. I don’t remember her name. But I’m gonna call her Victoria. Victoria asked me what I wanted. I laughed nervously. So…I don’t want to be completely bare. She nodded and prodded more. I had decided I would go with a traditional Brazilian. Not all of the hair is removed. I was suddenly bashful in communicated what I wanted to her. It felt lude to describe my grooming preference as a “landing strip” but she nodded her head in boredom. I thought to myself for the first time, how disgusting it was to refer to a strip of hair down the mons pubis as a landing strip. I then had a change of heart. Actually, could I just get a triangle? I asked. This seemed more appropriate to me for some reason. She then instructed me to show her with my hands how big or small I wanted the area. I made a triangle on my pubes and she nodded. It was the strangest thing to instruct her how to groom my pubes. Victoria then began to ask me about work. I tried to pretend it was normal as she started to slather wax on my mons pubis. It was hot. She explained to me as she applied the wax that the wax she was using today was considered hard. I silently panicked again. Google had told me that hard wax was the harshest wax. It was too late though. She continued making chit-chat as she placed down the strips, pressing them into the hot wax. My legs trembled. I wondered if she noticed. Then came a point when she announced the wax had dried. She tugged at the strip she had laid down and I felt the tension. OMG, she’s about to rip my shit. I thought to myself. Victoria abruptly interrupted our small talk with a countdown to 3. I held my breath, and I released as she violently ripped up on the waxing paper. I was ready to scream out, but oddly enough the pain was rather dull and temporary. Somehow I had imagined that those pubes were literally attached to my eyeballs and I would feel them being ripped from skull…but for me personally the pain never reached above a 3 on a scale out of 10. This is my cautionary note however–Victoria told me the most painful area was right above the clit. Well, as you know, I opted for a traditional Brazilian. With each hot waxing and abrupt ripping I literally grew numb to the pain. I didn’t bother paying any heed to her countdowns and she soon stopped providing them as we talked casually like she wasn’t snatching hair out of my cooch.
Eventually she announced that waxing my labia would be somewhat painful. She applied the wax with what looked like a Popsicle stick. Because of the sensitive area the wax felt very hot to me. I felt uneasy about the wax as she spread my lips and plastered it on. I wondered how gross it must look down there, baldness, hairiness, brown looking tar shit…She started with the countdown again and I feared pain was imminent. She ripped quickly with one hand, and quickly applied pressure to the area with the other.
I really wasn’t expecting to feel the hairs being ripped out like that. I found it somewhat less pleasurable than having my mons waxed. Oddly enough, the pressure of her hand immediately soothed the pain. However it felt very strange for her to be holding down my labia, but I was entirely grateful. Again, this would be the 3 pain. Eventually we returned to our normal understanding and she ripped away efficiently. I could literally already feel a breeze.
Okay. I need you to pull your knees to your chest. I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. Well then! I thought. I don’t even do this for ANYBODY. Today, my balls were brass though, so I pulled my knees up to my chest like it was normal to expose my asshole and vagina to a complete stranger so she could access everything she needed to. Because the asshole is so sensitive I did find the wax too hot to apply. She had to let it cool for a moment. When she resumed plastering my anus and perineum I couldn’t help but feel a strange giddiness. Here am with all my goodies exposed letting this woman rip hair out of my asshole all because Monica said it would change my life. Surprisingly waxing my anus was not painful at all and it was over shortly. I couldn’t have been happier about releasing my knees and securing my lady parts between my closed thighs. I felt invaded, raw, and naked. I took the offered baby wipes and began to wipe myself.
I was disgusted as the wipe revealed brown. Then I realized I still had wax on my body. Apart from the wax, I cannot lie. My vagina felt liberated. For the first time I was aware of the skin on my privates being entirely hairless. The fabric of my shorts breezed past my skin like silk on a new born. Walking felt entirely different. I was carrying something soft, smooth, and delicate between my legs. I couldn’t contain my excitement.
Even the drive home was an experience. I sat in my car, and I felt the car seat in an entirely new manner. I called my mom. I called Monica. I called Maria. I wanted to call everyone and tell my pussy was bald and SO WAS my asshole. I wanted to skate through life singing Just Around the River-bend. I couldn’t wait to experience life’s pleasure with my renovated form.
My first shower proved interesting. As I bathed I marveled at the ridiculously soft skin exposed to me. It was seriously as smooth as a babies ass. The water rolled off me like beads of rain on a car recently detailed with luxury wax. I never fathomed that my skin was that smooth underneath. What I dislike about my “b-wax” was the tar I found dried all up and down my ass. I scrubbed away at it only to find myself scrubbing the floor of my shower as the shit is rather stick. Oh, and it looks like shit. Lastly, I waited 2 days before exfoliating with a sugar scrub I purchased at the boutique. This felt amazing. I absolutely recommend exfoliating every other day to aid in moisturizing and avoiding in grown hairs as the wax inevitably fades.
Lastly, when your hair returns it comes in quietly without the prickly tell of a shave or close trim. So is a Brazilian worth a try? YES! Does a Brazilian hurt? It can but if you get your eyebrows threaded or waxed you know beauty has a price. Did a Brazilian increase my sexual pleasure? You bet! Did getting a Brazilian change my life? No. But it definitely gave me confidence in the strangest situations.
I can win at life even when all else goes wrong because I know if It came down to it and some serial killer was going around murdering hairy assed people, I know I’d survive with my baby smooth asshole. Actually no, that’s not how I want to end things. A Brazilian changed my life because if I can let Victoria rip hair out of my asshole with hot wax, while my knees are pulled up to my chest, I know I’ve got the brass balls to do anything. You can’t tell me what I’m not capable of–my pussy is velvety smooth. Try and stop me world!