The first time I went to get the bottom half of my legs waxed was the most embarrassing time ever.
I went with my aunt and after I left decided I never wanted to go to another wax salon ever. So my aunt decided to buy her own wax kit and ensured me it wouldn't be difficult to do and just to stay still.
So I laid down on the bed and lifted my arm up as she was going to do my under arms. So she applied the wax strip and counted to three and ripped it of at the count of 2.... She ripped half of it off and the other half was left there and stuck.
I was in so much pain while she was in stitches laughing over me. So she ended up ripping the other half off.
After that experience I have never got waxing done again.
I was about to go to a party and my friends were telling me they had gone for a Hollywood wax and that I should come along and get one. I didn't have enough time though you know what us girls are like getting ready!
So i went to my aunties house as she lives a couple doors down and owns her own wax machine and decided i was going to do it myself how hard could it really be right?
so i went into the backroom and in my mind i was thinking ok all i need to do is apply the hot wax, put a strip on top and pull? If only life was that simple!
So i applied the wax and put the strip on top and i was a bit scared of the pain so i pulled it off quite slowly and was making a mess with the wax it was literally everywhere.
I tried again but only this time with more speed but when i tried to pull it it just hurt and no hairs came off and the wax was still their i kept trying and trying but onli like 10 hairs came out i didn't understand why it wasn't working and i was to embarrassed to ask my auntie to do it for me.
i had 30mins till i had to leave for this party so i thought forget it im going to jump in the shower and scrub this wax off and get ready. BUT the wax wasn't coming off with water!!! i scrubbed and scrubbed even with one of them painful silved sponges but it just hurt.
I had 10 mins left so i had to just get out of the shower and go to the party with my underwear literally stuck to me! it was the most uncomfortable night of my life! Now i go to a professional to get it done and my therapist told me that you have to pull the strip the same way the hair is growing. LOL!
My nightmare story is that after years of using hair removal cream on my full bikini area, the hair has gotten even more course and faster growth than before.
So I recently decided to start waxing instead hoping that the hair growth will be easier to manage and re-growth is less damaging to my sensitive skin.
However waxing down there is now so painful and my hair has become so course that whenever I get a full wax, my bikini area skin cannot take it and I get massive lumpy spots almost like a rash and it looks so horrible and off-putting as it looks like I have an STD so I have stopped waxing and reverted back to hair removal cream for the moment.
In the mean time I have lost a lot of confidence due to this and so all bedroom activity is unfortunately non existent!!
I went for a pre summer holiday wax session and the girl doing the session said jump on the bench and pull your jeans and boxers down so we can get it all done nicely.
She nipped off and I was laying face down awaiting her return. A woman entered the room with a clip board - I said okay I'm ready or you - at that point she told me that she was from the health and safety exec and was doing a survey, but thanked me for brightening up her day.......
A few years into puberty I realized I have a bit more fuzz on the darker side...it didn't really bother me until I actually had my first boyfriend, when I obviously wanted to be silky smooth for his caresses.
My best friend knew all about my fuzzy life, so I confided in her to help me get rid of my rear-mohawk (as I termed it back then). It was a slight exaggeration, but to a woman in her late teens, even a small hairy patch would seem a jungle, especially before a romantic encounter.
We decided the best home solution would be waxing. All fine there, until it was actually applied onto 'that' area. I was on all four paws as my friend tried to pull the wax off, but I got so anxious I managed to contract my muscles, and before I even knew it, Open Sesame became Glued Together Sesame...
After my friend's initial fit of laughter, she had to put all her effort in to pull all wax off in one.
It was a painful 3-5-minutes job, which left me nonetheless smooth, silky...and red as a fried lobster.
Since then, my Christmas wish-list has an addition to it:laser hair removal.
Intimate Waxing The importance of being polished...
Now, when I let my mustache grow out, I can quite easily be mistaken for my dad - SERIOUSLY! You can imagine my relief when I was finally able to go and get the beastly bugger waxed off.
Little did I know what a surprise I was in for! It was 2005, in Pakistan, in some unheard-of salon. I was going in for the kill: arms and upper lip! Upper lip: 1st strip pulled violently.
But still not too bad, I thought to myself. But then came the arms. Without putting any protective layers on my clothes, the beautician (I'm not sure she qualifies as one mind you...) hastily began to apply a thick, cloggy looking wax, leaving it on for far longer than necessary.
When she finally started to remove the wax, her attention was certainly not on me. Like a spectator at a tennis match, her head moved to catch the scandalous stories about Salman Khan to her right to the booming voice telling everyone how important it is to be "polished" (subtitles: hair free, apparently) on her left.
I was in agony! Not to mention with wax all over my clothes - this she tried to pick off with her fingers (to no avail) whilst laughing manically and apologizing about the fact that "I get unprofessional sometimes y'kno?!".
The last straw was the toilet trip. The old-hole-in-the-ground. That's fine by me. But when I looked around, there was no tissue. I called out to her. The response?: "Use the towel on the side!". Horrified, I turned to my right, and there it was: stained, soggy (from god knows what...) and most definitely not complying with hygiene standards. Needless to say, I never went back.
But, hey, at least I no longer look like my dad...