Deep down, in the root of every woman, I am sure we have contemplated what getting a wax must feel like. Maybe you’ve already checked that off your bucket list by sugar-waxing your pits off, but that’s child’s play. No no, what I’m talking about is spread eagle, lamp shining on your hoo-haw, praying to the waxing gods that this woman doesn’t rip your vagina off kind of waxing.
Maybe you were the sane few who actually haven’t wondered this, but regardless, this is MY uncensored, in graphic detail, Brazilian Waxing experience.
So I want to say it was nearing the end of Thirsty Thursday when I was laying on my grey comforter, and finishing up on my third Disney video when boredom hit me. Usually people will browse Insta or, I don’t know, clean their room, but instead I was searching for the nearest waxing places to me. To clarify, this wasn’t a random “this sounds like fun” sort of thought; I have looked down South many times before in the bathroom mirror and imagined the clean-cut, porn-star, landing strip look on me. I’m not saying that I was a full-on hedge, but more so an overgrown rose bush, to make it sound pretty.
Well back to it, I was psyching myself out. I made a bunch of “if this happens, I’ll do it,” statements to try to hype myself up for it, and conveniently, the place I found was only a 20 min walking distance from me. Well, shit, that fit my criteria, so I made up another. Thinking about how irresponsible it would be to waste my tuition money to simply clean up my curtains, I set a spending limit of $50 tops. Well, this unreasonably affordable place only charged $40. Double shit, I was quickly running out of excuses. “I’m probably going to need emotional support during this,” said my bitch-ass self, so I phoned a friend, knowing that she was even a bigger wimp than myself. Unfortunately for me, she was very much down to get one as well. Sadly, that was my last line of defense, so I phoned Fantastic Waxing and made an appointment for two.
I hung up, then immediately went in the shower, scrubbing every inch and crevice of my honey pot; silently bidding a farewell to the overgrown glory that was my Rapunzel locks while hoping that my bootyhole would remain presentable. Will I fart, what if I poo, what kind of guide dog am I going to get when I become paralyzed, were a few thoughts I was having while I applied my third coat of body-wash. I downed two 200mg tablets of Ibuprofen and met with my partner in pain as we made our way to the quaint shop, appropriately located across the street from Leonard’s bakery.
The place was very organic looking, to say the least, and had a recurring theme of Buddha inspired decor. I barely was able to breathe it all in, when it just started happening. Next thing I knew I was on a table with my shorts on the floor and genitals on display. Position: clamshell. Anxiety: high.
Lan was very warm and welcoming during the whole experience. Her soothing words almost made the whole thing bearable, you know, if it wasn’t for the constant pain emitting from my womanhood. I asked for a break, she laughed and continued ripping at my flesh. This woman murdered my vagina. As much as I would love to sugarcoat the whole experience, saying how easy it was, and that it was only a 4/10 in pain, I refuse to downplay this. You guys deserve the truth, especially if you are a virgin waxer like I once was. But, just so you know, your cherry will not only pop, it will explode. Your hair has this end bit inside your skin called a bulb, and this bulb is larger in diameter than the shaft of the hair follicle itself. Therefore, when it gets forcibly ripped from the small cavity where just the tip of your hair was, it’s a big pain. Perhaps you can gain a tolerance, but when choosing a $40 wax, steps will be missed, and you lose some gentleness as more and more patients are flooding in.
So anatomy lesson continued, you have your labia majora, then labia minora, and lastly followed by the Chamber of Secrets itself. On occasion, the lucky few get random hairs that appear in the labia minora region, guilty, and to take those out, Lan had a special method. Pretend if your opening was the same as that of an opened bottle of wine, Lan would get a ball of wax and essentially “cork” and “uncork” you. I think at that point, I was extremely numb because I didn’t realize it was even there until I shifted a bit and felt the warm intrusion. Before I could ask what the thing was, she yanked it out.
The whole thing felt like an hour, but roughly took 10-15 minutes top. The cherry of this was the finale though. “Get into a cannonball.” I was oblivious to the fact that they waxed the entirety of your booty, and was definitely shocked when she manually put my knees to my chest. Luckily, that part felt easy, if that’s appropriate to say, and only took one yank of a wax spread. With that, there’s still that throbbing, numb feeling, as you’re cooch and hooch are now inflamed to a puffy pink. Lan, thank goodness, had a soothing oil that she applied and dried with the largest folding fan I have ever seen.
So couple things to consider: My friend has waxed multiple times before, and was still screaming under the hands of Lan. Also, if you’re holding your friend’s hand while that fan process is happening, you will get crop dusted by vagina air. And lastly, I think taking the ibuprofen tablets helped with the inflammation, or it just placebo-ed the heck out of me.
Other than the part of being totally nude to a Vietnamese Buddhist, Lan fanning your friends inflamed vagina air towards you with a folding fan, and the immediate pain, the wax was tolerable. For being as affordable and close to home as it was, I will confidently say that it was worth it in the long run, and will be going back to visit Lan soon.