Virgin(37)

“Oh-kaaay. The chicken pox thing is definitely legit—mine always looks gross afterwards but the red dots will disappear soon. But the Hitler thing? I don’t understand, babe. Didn’t you get a normal Brazilian like we discussed?”

“It went wrong,” I wailed. “She told me a Playboy was the best type of Brazilian. And it hurt so badly, and it looks so weird.”

“Okay, calm down. I’m sure it isn’t as bad as you think. Why didn’t you just get them to take the little bit of hair off and have a Hollywood?”

I stopped mid-step. “Fuck. I don’t know. I should have. I can’t go back in though, I just can’t. It was so embarrassing and so gross.”

“Where did you go?” she asked.

“A depressing place in Bloomsbury that was freezing cold and cost thirty-four quid.”

“You should have gone to my salon! It’s cheaper and really nice and— Oh my God, please tell me your beautician used sugar wax?”

“What’s sugar wax?”

“It’s the one where they layer it all over you, and then peel it off at the end. They don’t use strips so it hurts waaaay less.”

“My beautician used strips,” I moaned.

“Oh, Ellie,” she said. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Are you on your way to meet him now?”

I looked down at my Casio watch. “Yep, and obviously I’m early. He’s going to think I’m so keen.”

“Just go hang out in the loos and make yourself look even more beautiful than you already do,” she suggested.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“You’ll be amazing. Good luck!”


My Hair Lady

Everyone knows women have pubes, leg hair and even underarm hair. But we want to focus on the neglected body hair that everyone ignores. The hair that sprouts up in places we never knew the names of until we Googled them frantically to check that we were normal. So, these are places that we have found noticeable body hair growing on our own bodies.

NB: EM is blond so she will never really understand the pain of this as much as EK, who is dark-haired and of Mediterranean origin. However, EM insists that even though her hairs are blond, they are plentiful and long.

Arm hair. Everyone has arm hair and it shouldn’t be a thing, but for some reason, salons have decided it is normal to offer arm waxes and every model is airbrushed to hide her arm hair. EM’s mum even tried to make her wax off her downy forearms so she would look more “feminine” at a family wedding. She refused.

Nipple hair. This is a thing. We both have fine—or even not so fine—hairs growing on our areolae (that’s the name of the outer ring bit). We haven’t checked the biological reason for this but are positive there is a good one.

The snail trail. It’s normal, it’s natural and we all have it. If you can work yours along with all this other hair, we are majorly jealous and admire you.

Toes and finger hair. There was a scene in Miss Congeniality that showed Sandra Bullock getting all her digits waxed so she could be transformed into a beauty pageant winner. It was shit. We’re going for the Little Miss Sunshine vibe instead.

The ’stache. Both of us have hair on our upper lips. EK used to bleach hers but realized this left a blond downy patch on her face that was still very visible. She now waxes it, as does EM.

Cleavage hair. So, this is a thing we’ve only just discovered on ourselves. Maybe it’s a sign of late puberty (yes, we are in our early twenties), but both of us now have very faint hair down our cleavage. Who knew?





 I was in Soho and still had half an hour before meeting Jack. There was a pub nearby so I decided to go inside and use their loos. I ran upstairs, crinkling my nose at the smell of beer-stained carpets, and locked myself in the single loo. I pulled my trousers and underpants down, then froze as I realized my best black lace knickers were stuck to my vagina. I yanked at them, and they tore away from my skin. The lace was still intact and they hadn’t ripped but there were three bluish blobs covered with black fluff on my vagina.

Oh my fucking God. The wax hadn’t all come off on the strips, and it was stuck on my skin along with knicker fluff. I rubbed at it frantically until I realized it had hardened and wasn’t coming off. I needed to use some water, but it was a public bathroom. I couldn’t just rub my vagina next to the sink, could I?

Praying to God no one would walk in, I hobbled to the sink with my knickers and jeans halfway down my legs. I quickly started rubbing away at it with water and a runny pink soap I squirted from the plastic dispenser. The wax went gloopy when it was mixed with the hot water, and it spread across my skin. I had made it worse.