Brazilians: Nicety or Necessity?

With Movember well under way and the hairiness that accompanies it, I was prompted to investigate the choice by some to shed their stragglers.

A Brazilian bikini wax is the removal of all hair from the pubic region. I’ve been known to go Brazilian in my day, as do most of my girlfriends. Whether or not for a partner’s enjoyment, the bottom line is, it’s for a general feeling of cleanliness. And—empowerment.

Also known as the “Hollywood” wax, Carrie [Bradshaw] from HBO’s Sex and the City first received hers on a trip to Los Angeles. The procedure left her feeling “very aware of down there” as she strutted around in her Manolo’s. There was a swagger in her step, as she felt capable of taking anything, or anyone on.

Similarly, a few years ago, before a friend and I headed for a vacation in California, we made a pit stop to our local beauty parlour. Spread eagled on the table, Emy the Esthetician stated that we’re NOT supposed to take it all off. It is there to protect us, she added, as she continued to rid us of our bristle. So, why do we do it? Is bald really beautiful? And, whom are we waxing for? Is it for ourselves, or for a second party?

I was having brunch with a friend a few weeks ago, as the topic of Brazilians came up, she had in fact just had one that morning. I expressed that a certain feeling of confidence emanates through me as I walk out of the salon and on with my day, to which she agreed. The liberated feeling is one shared among my other female comrades, as well.

Its exact origin is hard to pin point, but it may go back as far as the 1500’s.        

In a letter written by Pêro Vaz de Caminha documenting Pedro Álvares Cabral’s voyage to Brazil, he notes: “their private parts were so exposed, so healthy and so hairless, that looking upon them we felt no shame”.

My, how times have not changed. Of the male friends I heard from, they prefer their women to be as hairless as the day they were born. Although, one lad insisted it was unnatural, and slightly perverted.

The wax has so been dubbed ‘Brazilian’ due to the barely there bikinis the South American ladies tend to sport, thus making the hair removal a must.

Apart from the pain, and occasional ingrown hairs the general consensus seems to be in favour of the Brazilian. In this case, the pros outweigh the cons, it would seem. As for the pain, pop a few Advil, not Tylenol, because it’s an anti-inflammation capabilities will work to your benefit.

Former Spice Girl singer, Victoria Beckham has said, “I love Brazilians – they ought to be compulsory at 15, don’t you think?” The British pop sensation helped to coin the term that now appears in dictionaries, a few years ago.

Compulsory? I don’t think so. To each their own, I say. There are a wide range of styles and shapes to choose from or the ‘au naturel’ look is a viable option. And, one I think will be making a come-back.

Whether you dare to go bare, one thing is certain: the need to get your vajajay tested. A loved one was recently diagnosed with cervical cancer, so no matter what your situation is down South get your beaver checked by a gynaecologist regularly.

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Boy Talk

I had the rare opportunity to be a fly on the wall for guys’ night not too long ago.

I always wondered if all they really spoke about was sex. Even with me there, the discussion did comprise mostly of the latter.

What I took away from the conversation was the key to nabbing a guy. And, the key is … confidence.

From what I was told, if you line up a bunch of average hunnies with killer confidence and then some slightly hotter females, more often than not a guy will opt for the confident chick.

Apparently, it is all about what you project and how you carry yourself. Makes sense, I guess. A guy does not want to be carrying around all the baggage that comes with an insecure gal.

That’s not to say you must rid yourself of all insecurities instantaneously. We all have things we aren’t so keen about, both internally and externally. You may be lacking in one department, but blessed in another. Gaining confidence is not an easy feat.

The conversation had me questioning my own confidence level. How am I perceived on a guy’s radar? Which category would I fall under?

Well, for the longest time, I’ve wanted bigger breasts.

When I was in the sixth grade, my lack of endowment prompted a classmate to say, “Lamontagne, well, you don’t have big mountains.”

I know, right, pretty clever for an 11 year old. It stung, but I still had time to grow, so to speak.

Come middle school, I was dubbed “the President of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee”. From one President to another, Obama will tell you the same: some things just don’t come that easily.

Puberty was around the corner, I could feel it!

Lo and behold, I have not progressed as far as I would have hoped. I’ve come to terms with my shortcomings. Sort of.

Although, when Mark Zuckerberg dissed his ex-girlfriend in the Facebook film, The Social Network, citing her 34B stood for ‘Barely there’, it hurt.

I still long for my cup to runneth over, but I suppose it wasn’t meant to be.

The sooner we accept what he have, the happier we’ll be. It’s not having what you want, it’s wanting what you have.

Back to the confidence thing.. I’m working on it.

The Art of Bride-Making

I recently attended a wedding, having the honour of a being a bridesmaid, and the experience left me pondering why women are perceived a certain way.

What is it with women at weddings anyway? Don’t get me wrong, I’m the first to reach for a tissue at the sound of an organ, but what I want to know is, why? Why do women fall apart?

Now, a whole sexist rhetoric where in fact men have been known to get weepy and some females might not shed a tear might ensue. Yet, the bottom line is that women are portrayed a certain way in the media, and in life.

First question: Is it jealousy? Or, second, is it really being overcome with emotion whilst standing amidst the pews?

The last few weddings I’ve attended have been with my beau by my side, so I haven’t experienced the wedding blues personally.

Not to say that it’s a single girl’s syndrome. I definitely know of potential bridezillas in committed relationships who seemed less than satisfied that they had yet to be presented with a ring.

And, don’t even get me started on the bouquet toss! In an effort to pass along her good fortune, it has become custom for a bride to throw her bridal bouquet to eligible ladies. This tradition came into effect once people started realizing perhaps guests trying to grab a hold of the bride’s dress and flowers might not be the best way to go about it.

I’ve experienced some temperamental women when they weren’t lucky enough to catch the bouquet, especially when they specifically demanded for it to be hurled in their direction. Do they really think the course of their impending nuptials will be dictated by their geographical coordinates at someone else’s reception?

My uncle once told me that envy is the ulcer of the soul. It’s something I’ve clung onto, and it’s rather fitting here. It’s easy to dismiss what one has in search of greener pastures, but let me tell you, the grass isn’t always greener next door. It takes a lot of hard working to maintain a lawn, as well as a marriage. I’ve been witnesses to both, so count your blessings.

The whole business of it is quite infantile, to be honest. Reverting back to childhood, when a friend had something you really wanted, and you’d give anything to get it.

I’ve never experienced anything but happiness, sometimes hunger at weddings, and occasionally a hangover. If you’ve been invited to share in the celebration of family or friends joining in holy matrimony, revel in the magic that is marriage.

Although, some could not be bothered with the hysterics and hoopla brought on by tying the knot, it is my belief that a large portion do long for that day, their day, myself included.

The Maid of Honour at the wedding I just attended, a married gal herself, put it so eloquently: “You’re getting married.” Talk about stating the obvious, but those few words put everything into perspective for the bride. The simple fact of the matter was just that. It doesn’t matter who isn’t coming, or who’s creating more stress than support, the point was that she was marrying the man she loved and that was all that mattered.

I think with regards to planning the perfect party, it’s easy to lose sight of what is truly important—the food! Just kidding, the union and devotion of two people brought together in love. Whether you’re attending as a guest, as part of the bridal party, or maybe you weren’t even invited, do your best to keep the latter in mind.

The Virtue of Virginity

There I was on the shuttle bus, speeding along from campus to campus, cramming in some last minute knowledge before my quiz.

As I sat pouring over my notes, the topic of conversation of three lads overhead had turned to sex. I tried to focus on the studying at hand, but my attention was being drawn into their discussion.

I heard one of them mutter something about “not putting the pussy on a pedestal”. A line straight out of 40 Year old Virgin. These boys were far from forty, and the rest of the conversation revealed that they weren’t virgins either.

It was like ‘Show and Tell’ as each guy disclosed the details of their first romp in the sack.

One indicated that if he hadn’t lost “it” by his 20th birthday, he would have arranged it. Yes, [he meant an escort]. Luckily, it was just a month before his birthday when he finally did the deed. What a gift! He even recalls the shirt he wore; now dubbed his ‘lucky shirt’.

The tall one proudly stated the exact date that he went from boy to man, and he’s closing in on one year. Happy Anniversary!

They then took to talking about classes, projects and professors, and I lost interest.

Their chat left me pondering the similarities among the sexes. He remembered what he was wearing the day he chucked his V-card. The other had the date etched in his mind forever.

Maybe we’re not that different after all.

P.S.: I ended up doing rather well on my quiz 🙂

Tick, Tock.

When I tell people how long Mike and I have been dating, it’s usually followed by a “Wow!”.

As their eyebrows furrow, they ask: “How old are you?”. A general show of surprise then leads to a genuine appreciative “Good for you” smile or an “You’re out of your mind” grimace.

We started dating when we were 15. High school sweethearts. It’s never felt long, and in comparison to a dear friend who has been dating her beau for eight years, we’re lagging behind.

Some may applaud this, others may question the need to sow my wild oats. I found “the one” when I was a young one, and I’ll be damned if I were to let him go.

If our time spent pursuing a long distance relationship has taught me anything, it is that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I used to think it was some cheesy line, but over the years it has proven more true in every sense of the word.

Don’t get me wrong, frustration comes with the distance; it’s kind of a package deal. But, I just remind myself that there are worse situations, and I’m grateful to have him on the other end of that phone line.

I think our love has endured the test of time, and it keeps on ticking.