A seaside holiday inspired us to get a bikini wax done
We were three friends who were going to a seaside resort for a holiday.
“Should we,” we said, as we checked out pictures of perfect body models wearing the tiniest bikinis with no pubic hair peeping out, in Cosmopolitan magazine, and we giggled and said, “Done!”
We are all on the wrong side of 40 and this was our first time for a bikini wax.
Bikini wax the first time is as painful as losing your virginity or learning cycling. That’s what the pros at it told us sagely.
“Let’s ask Google aunty,” said my friend, “And not listen to others.”
Lots of strong advice for a first-timer
“Don’t come drunk,” said one website, “Your blood becomes thinner and it will be more painful.” And to think we were planning to have wine and get drunk for our first time.
The second website said, “Bikini wax is not a validation of your vagina, it is just to keep you clean, so don’t worry about the shape, size, etc. or is it prettier than the rest, and also don’t worry about the knickers you are going to wear, coz that’s really not important.”
“As though we are worried,” said my friend angrily.
“Don’t drink too much water,” cautioned another website. “The hot wax on your vagina would make you want to pee and also don’t eat beans, because it might want you to take out gas while you are going through a Brazilian wax, and that will make your beauty therapist very angry.”
A Quora user cautioned, “It’s very painful, and like childbirth and strength training you have to keep taking deep breaths while you are being waxed because shutting your eyes and pretending nothing is happening is not going to help.”
“My God, so many ifs and buts,” we said, but to reassure ourselves we sang a poem from our childhood, “Veer tum badhe chalo dheer tum badhe chalo.” We took an appointment for the three of us.
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We ignored the dire warnings
Before our bikini wax, despite the warnings by the websites, we had a lovely meal of pepperoni pizzas, macaroni salad and risotto and drank three glasses of chilled wine. We rounded it off with something called a chocolate bomb, which if it was bit into, oozed chocolate in all directions. Sated and happy, we lurched into the parlour, talking loudly, until the receptionist shooed us to keep our decibels a little lower.
I kept my top but took off my pants and my really tacky underwear. My legs were spread-eagled and I kept thinking it’s the ideal position for BDSM.
My legs were spread-eagled and I kept thinking it’s the ideal position for BDSM.
She could just tie my ankles and wrists with mogra veni and whip me and pour cream over me, but naturally nothing like that happened. Every time she put a strip of wax and yanked my hair, I yelled.
Oh my God, the pain!
“Bahut pain ho raha hai?” she asked me.
“No,” I said, “I have this habit of screaming without any reason.”
“Bahut hair hai. Is it the first time,” she asked, and without waiting for an answer she added, “Your stomach is coming in the way. Pull up your stomach with your hands and then it will be easier.” Even my husband had not complained about my fat stomach like she did. Every time she pulled the strip I would wince with pain clutch my hands and ask her how much time more.
“Abhi toh not even one tenth, I don’t want you be in pain so I am doing very slowly. Growth aapki kitni hai.” Finally, after the longest excruciating painful wait she said, “It’s over and how beautiful you are looking,” pointedly looking at my vagina. “Really,” I thought to myself, “My vagina is looking beautiful, chalo compliment toh mila!”
I changed and then I realised she had not cleaned me properly and my underwear was glued to me like a second skin, but these were minor hiccups compared to the mammoth task I had accomplished. I went to the reception where I found both my friends.
But we got through it
One of my friends was moaning, “I am too scared to look down there, I think she has annihilated all my private parts.”
My other friend said, “I let out some gas but I quickly covered it by coughing loudly.”
I laughed and said, “Forget it. Now we are all pros at bikini waxes, even though now we look like plucked chickens.”
We were all ready for our seaside resort holiday, though we all wondered if the bikini wax was worth it. Because none of us were ever going to wear bikinis. We knew we would be wearing conservative one-piece swimsuits. But at least we had gone through the experience and knew it was not worth doing it ever again.