Steel Knickers

This could be TMI but I’m gonna go there.

I’ve had no below-the-belt action since 2018.

Now, in a way this is a good thing.

I don’t have to shave my legs.

I don’t have to wax.

I don’t even blow dry my hair anymore.

Personal maintenance is at an all-time low (although the makeup routine is strong and steady).

There’s such little action that I am considering steel knickers.

Cement panties?

I mean, what’s the point of fancy lingerie when no one sees it?

The other day, a bouquet of flowers was delivered to my desk.

I have to admit, I got a little excited when I saw them.

Maybe a man sent them to me?

But no, it was no man.

Just a colleague.

My initial reaction reminded me of the fact that I do want to have a relationship.

Despite being pretty comfortable with my single status.

Isn’t life better with someone to love?

Of course it is.

The little (and I mean TINY) romantic in me is just waiting to love someone up.

The truculent bitch in me is saying, “So what?  Who needs a man?”

Well, duh.

Me.

Manscaping

We spend a lot of time discussing women’s hygiene and personal habits.

We seldom talk about men.

It strikes me that there is a BIG double standard (duh) between hygiene habits of women and hygiene habits of men.

I’ve never heard a man worry about how he smells or tastes down there.

And let me tell you, I’ve been with a few FUNKY men.

Why don’t men worry more?

They should (see above statement about funky men).

I knew a German who believed in “taking it all off.”

Everything was so nice and smooth and clean.

I have a picture of him in naught more than a parted bathrobe that literally freezes every woman in her tracks when I show it to them.

Of course there was also Charlie The Aussie who (when I suggested manscaping to him) promptly shut me down by saying, “I’m Australian. We don’t MANSCAPE.”

There must be a happy medium.

Some way a guy can take care of business but not so much that he starts to resemble something under 13 years old.

Would it kill a guy to TRIM?

Do a little weed whacking south of the border?

And, you know, wash thoroughly in the shower every time?

Perhaps shake it one or two EXTRA times till the last drop falls off?

I know it sounds crazy but I’m not a big fan of funk.

And the truth is, men could take a page out of the woman’s playbook and spend a little more time manscaping.

There’s always the EXTRA OPTICAL INCH to be gained!

Smooth

I watched a video recently where 5 women took a challenge to stop waxing and plucking their facial hair for a month.

These women bitched and complained about their hairy faces but I couldn’t see anything on the video. They looked just as beautiful as they had in the beginning.

It was then that I realized that many women are COMPULSIVE about facial hair.

For someone who lets her eyebrows go LONG PAST THE PLUCKING POINT, I can say with true abandon that I am not one of these compulsive women.

I also forget to shave my legs but that’s beside the point.

The truth is, I don’t remember being obsessed with facial hair as a teenager.

I don’t even remember HAVING facial hair.

But somewhere between 15 and 43, I managed to grow a beardlette.

Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a “beard beard.”

My face just gets blond fuzz on it.

It’s genetic, I think.

There’s some Portuguese in me and I attribute all my peach fuzz to my Portuguese heritage.

On account of I’m pretty sure it’s not from the Nordic side of things.

In addition to having a fuzzy face, I also have one long wiry stray hair that grows out of the right corner of my chin.

Definitely NOT SEXY.

I pluck that motherfucker like nobody’s business!

It’s the most satisfying pluck on my whole body.

I play with it for a while after I pluck it – poking it with my finger, feeling how stiff and rigid it feels.

Getting old sucks.

However, it’s better than the alternative, no?

So I’ll just shut up about the whole thing and admit that I have an ace up my sleeve.

I may be hairy but there’s always wax!

Legs

michelleI’ll let you in on a little secret:

I RARELY shave my legs.

It’s not that I’m TOO LAZY to shave them in the shower.

It’s just that I mostly wear pants and so my legs don’t show.

And. . . my hair is blond.

So even when it shows, it doesn’t REALLY show.

At least that was my theory until 5 minutes ago.

Picture this:

I’m wearing a black leather midi skirt with black platform heels and a red and black buffalo plaid shirt.

My legs are bare.

I’m standing in front of the window, silhouetted by the incoming light when I feel a little chill.

All the hair on my body STANDS UP.

I look down and HAPPEN to notice that I CAN SEE ALL THE BLOND HAIRS ON MY LEGS .

Like, there’s a bushel of them!

And just like that. . .

I’VE RESOLVED TO SHAVE MY LEGS.

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