Monday, March 24, 2003

Spring must be upon us. The bluebonnets are blooming along the highway, Easter baskets line the aisles at the grocery store, and I shaved my underarms today; signalling a sartorial return to bathing suits and sleeveless shirts and dresses. I also shaved my legs - something I normally only do to avoid snide comments from my mother.

Usually I'm not fussed by body hair. I started shaving mostly because my mother nagged me about it (I don't think she meant to humiliate me by comparing me to a hairy gorilla, but I was a wee bit oversensitive during my adolescent years). In high school, my newfound feminist identity made a convenient excuse to stop shaving. I wasn't being lazy, I was rejecting patriarchal standards of beauty! When guys asked me why I didn't shave my body, I delighted in replying, "You don't, why should I?" But, hypocrite that I am, I could never be completely comfortable with my dark underarm hair poking out for all the world to see. So, in college I started shaving my underarms again, but just in the summer, when it was likely to show.

My sparse, light-colored leg hair might get shaved once a year or so, when I'm going to be wearing stockings (a rare occurence, in and of itself) or wearing a bathing suit around my mom. As much as I want to believe that the fuzzy, natural look is equally (or more) attractive, I have to admit there's something very sexy about the smooth, clean line of a shaved leg. And with my round, moon-like belly, and pregnancy waddle, I'm scrambling for anything that might help me look more like a sexual being (the bodacious tatas are great in that regard, until your stomach projects out beyond them, and then it's sort of a lost cause).


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