Last weekend I waxed my legs for the first time. And it hurt. A lot. Why do women do this to themselves? I guess my question is on two levels. First, what’s the big deal about body hair? And second, why the pain of waxing when you could shave? The body hair thing is a real mystery to me and if it weren’t for disapproving women in the gym, I probably wouldn’t bother. Sarah likes my furry legs and I do too, up to a point. And as for waxing, I think it’s because it’s more efficient.
I had been thinking about trying waxing for a while, having discussed it at length with my mother and my sister and having been assured that the pain was worth it. The selling point for me was the idea that having been through the pain, I wouldn’t have to shave for ages and when the hair did grow back, there would be less of it. My sister had also claimed that I was far too much of a wuss to ever wax my legs, since the pain was quite extreme. I took this to be a dare. How could I refuse?
So, I’m sitting in my mother’s bathroom, legs exposed, at the mercy of my sister’s instructions. First, I apply hot wax to my legs. It’s nice and warm and apart from a bit of fear, everything is fine. Then, I add a fabric strip to the wax, which is quite soothing. Then, I quickly pull the strip of cloth back up my leg PULLING ALL MY HAIRS OUT. AM I INSANE??!?! The pain is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. Not necessarily worse, but just incomparable to other excruciating experiences. Oh, and of course it’s all self inflicted in the name of femininity. But I did both legs (below the knee only – I’m not utterly insane) and reckoned I’d got it all and felt suitably proud. The following day, however, I checked my legs and discovered there are still random hairs all over the place, implying that maybe I wasn’t as thorough as a good girl should be. Still, it’ll be a good few months before I even think about going through that again.
The Lord Mayor’s Show and learning about London
On Saturday I had a real weekend-in-London day. My friend Paula and I went to see the Lord Mayor’s Show in the City of London. It was rather surreal. A series of floats and soldiers and cars representing a range of years. We didn’t invest in the £3 programme, but I peeked over someone’s shoulder and kinda got the gist of what it was about. The most surreal sight was a Michelin Tyres truck with pictures of the Queen on it, to celebrate her Jubilee. And the most disquieting part was when we noticed a group of soldiers marching by with guns and realised they were all under 18.
We followed this cultural event with a visit to the Museum of London, which is fascinating if a little confusing to find your way around. I read about 80% of the signs, and reckon I can recall about 5%, so not an entirely wasted journey. The best bit was realising the gaping hole in the middle of the exhibition was where the Lord Mayor’s coach lives when it’s not part of the show we’d just seen.
The day finished with fireworks, which we watched from the Millennium bridge, before popping into Tate Modern to check out the latest installation in the Turbine Hall. I think it’s quite creepy, but interesting. That’s the kind of day that makes London worth while.
And finally, Sarah has returned to the nest. She got back on Sunday and I celebrated by making her cook a big chicken lunch for some of our nearest and dearest. It was really nice to see everyone, and the food was delicious. Now then, I must just find that list of DIY for her…