The Mayflower Docks At The Vajungle/Special Edition: Pubic Hair Oiling/& A Note On Donations For Puerto Rico

Before I begin with the wax, let me back that vagina up & discuss the party before, the special edition-Pubic Hair Oiling. A product came to my attention- Fur Oil

A daily regiment product, to oil your pubic hair, make it softer, less ingrowns. 

Well I’m always up for an adventure & who doesn’t want to purchase a product called Fur Oil? Who doesn’t want that on their credit card statement? So I purchased a 2 week supply with the plan of oiling for 1 week and then off to a wax.

This small bottle came in the mail. I gotta tell you, if you had Earth Mother Bush, this would never make 2 weeks. 

I had so many questions.

What about after I use the bathroom & wipe? Do I need to reapply?

Will it stain my underwear?

Should I be wearing cotton underwear?

Is once a day enough?

How much is enough? 

How much it too much? (Can there ever be too much???)

Well I just went for it. An uncharted land. A wooly wilderness.

I made it part of my post morning shower routine. It includes things like toner, lotion, deodorant. And for a week it included Fur Oil. I did not reapply after a bathroom break. I did not made it a bedtime routine. I did pack it once when I stayed over someone’s home. I stayed true! 

I’m not accustomed to having hair. And with the oil added in, I felt 70s porn. I felt fancy. I felt like I was doing a dead beauty routine. Something maybe done in 1700s France. 

 Did it actually accomplish anything? I’m going to say no. Hair texture was the same and ingrown status same as well. But I like the idea of it. I also think if you believe something will work it’ll work. & it’s nice to think of yourself. I also think you could easily concoct your own Fur Oil. A little Jojoba or Almond oil, a drop or two of this and that and bang you’ve got it. There’s a project for you. Winter is coming. Get yourself a finished basement for more insulation & prepare some oil treats for it. 

So now since that undertaking was accomplished, it was time for a wax. For this waxing experience I went to May Flower Nails and Spa located at 110 West End Ave.

It was really quiet-I was the only pilgrim in the joint! One of the employees lead me to a back room. It was a lot deeper than it appeared. Similar to a vagina. The waxer stayed in the room (very warm room) while I de-pants. Soft piano music played overhead. She said, “Everything?” Which I confirmed. 

Once atop the table she placed me in frog legs position & shook baby powder over me. At 1st she was wearing a medical mask but that was almost immediately removed. Either she determined my Mayflower to be a sanitary boat or it was just too damn hot in this ship. She didn’t wear any gloves.

She asked me if I hurt. But I knew she was indicating if I’m sensitive to this, not was I hurting at the moment. I said no I’ll be fine. I asked her if people hurt a lot & she laughed a bit. She said sometimes people are just scared at first. She worked quickly starting at one side then to the other. She really got in there, pulling me apart. Like being in a gonzo porn. She gave a few blow out huffs, the kind you’d make when moving furniture. Remodeling my Mayflower.

It was a very interactive wax. I did a lot of holding, her moving my hands here and there. Being told, “you help me” and “hold here.” This was not the wax for taking notes during. No multitasking here. My nails weren’t in great shape & I wondered if looking at my hands she was judging me. But it’s probably so routine for her she doesn’t even notice. One pull she warned me would hurt a little but it did not. I actually could’ve fallen asleep. But heat makes me tired. She held up a post wax strip one time for me to view. At the dentist years ago he held up a mirror for me to see my mouth before he finished working on a crown. This was waaaaaaay less traumatizing. I think the soft piano music made the dentist experience really pop in my head. 

There was only one moment where the wax was just a little too hot & I gave the most minuscule flinch. She still picked up on that and asked if the wax was too hot. A very aware esthetician. 

When the front was done she told me to turn over. I’m always glad when backside is included & I don’t have to ask for it. I really shouldn’t praise what should automatically be included. But after so many disappointments I’m happy when I’m not laying there naked from the waist down asking a total stranger to wax my ass.

I laid on my stomach the whole time for that.

When finished she applied a baby oil like product that was in a large pump bottle that made the noise pump bottles sometimes do. It had that flair of going into unromantic or money savvy/Costco (BJs seems more appropriate) baby oil backdoor sex.

Then flipped back over. She did a little tweezing. Then BJs oiled the deck. Then a cool wipe. And a liberal dousing of baby powder again. It’s interesting how children’s products cross bridges. Baby oil and baby powder for waxes. Glue sticks for drag queens’ eyebrows.

She stayed in the room again till I was almost dressed. When I finished I tipped her $20 & then paid $52.50 at the counter. & took a complimentary mint. I was parched!

When I got home I gave a look over. I must say this was one of if not the very best waxes I’ve ever had. Only like 2 teeny stragglers & no redness! So at least there’s something to bring positivity to the name Mayflower.

A note on Puerto Rico. I don’t think I need to tell you about the words the idiot in chief said about Puerto Rico & his display of throwing paper towels. Honestly, I don’t know how he lives with himself & those in his immediate circle can stomach him. No amount of money would I be able to do that for. A lot of people getting Brazilian waxes also get periods. So my fellow waxee, or interested in my waxes, or maybe getting one yourself someday, gather up some compassion. Let’s not leave it to the humans of Puerto Rico in need of menstrual products to be wadding up Trump paper towels. Here is a list of firehouses in NYC taking menstrual products. I dropped off some earlier this week.

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Yay for Jay!

Jay Nails on 3rd Ave between 98th St. and Marine Ave in Bay Ridge I cannot say enough nice things about.  That being said, This will be a rather short entry because I don’t have any horror stories or weirdness to tell here.  I was actually treated with respect (gasp!!) The only oddball thing I could even think to say was it was winter when I went and Christmas music was playing overhead.  Listening to The Little Drummer Boy and having your pubic hair ripped off is a bit of a strange experience.  

I was complimented on my dress & on my leg tattoos.  She was very fast and used cotton strips. It was a perfect job.  $30 and I tipped the woman $20.

*As of 7/17 This place has been renamed D&J Nail Spa

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I Need Aloe……..

Queen Beauty Nails at 4 East 8th Street is not fit for a queen. The waxing room is a partition room, the walls do not reach the ceiling. I understand that but what I don’t get is the door is a glass paned door, with a curtain covering the glass. If the door was original to the place I could see that. But if you’re going to build a room for the purpose of waxing you think you’d pick a solid door.
There is a very Bob Ross painting on the wall & I noticed the light had a energy saving bulb. At least the environment was a priority to them if my vagina was not. 
She wanted to stay in the room while I undressed & I said no. She said it was ok and I said it was not ok. 
When she came back to get on with the job-and to mention it no gloves were worn yet again-she first started with the wand. I never run into this, using the wand for a Brazilian wax. And I thought, oh great, here comes an infection. Well, I doubt any bacteria could live in that wax. It was some of the hottest wax I have ever experienced. Wax from the fires of Mount Doom.  I didn’t cringe once over a pull (fabric strips were used FYI) but I cringed many times over my scalding flesh. At one point through the Beyonce & Rihanna playing my waxer had a conversation in Korean through the door & I can only imagine she was bragging about the torture going on in here.
Wooden sticks were used for the wax as she worked her way down & she only asked me to hold once, when I was flipped over (face flat down on table position). The flip over was included by the way. She worked quickly and did a little plucking at the end followed by a quick oil rub down & a liberal application of baby powder. However, when I looked down at my queen, there was more hair left than should be. I wonder why she felt her tweezing job was done & what was there was satisfactory. Actually, I guess that’s just what it was-satisfactory. Not great. Not royalty material.
Without tip it came to $31 & change.  Oh well. I’ve paid more for worse. Maybe they could change their name to Duchess Beauty & I’ll let them slide.

Update: As of June 2017 this place is now closed

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I’m A Good Looking Lady

Joy Nail & Spa on Bay Ridge Avenue in Brooklyn is a little overdoing it with Joy in their title. If you want to ask my vagina’s opinion anyway. Maybe Bologna Sandwich Satisfaction Nail & Spa would have been more on point.It was a very low key joint that sported a brown leather sofa akin to one in perhaps a car service. Chinese pop music played overhead. I Shazam-ed it.

The partition room was papered with a mishmash of different floral wallpapers. Collage enthusiasts. Also, there was wax splattered all over these walls. A slaughterhouse/battle scars of other wars fought for the crown of hairless-ness affect.

She was a juxtaposition of a gentle demeanor & surprise commentary. But I don’t want to give away the ending. Come to think of it though, spoiler alert, that’s where the Joy is found. She gestured w/her words-“you want all off.” For some reason I have yet to come to an answer on she had me hold a paper towel against my belly. There were various standard holds on the goods as her gloveless hands went to work.

She let me know I was, “hurt a little bit” at one point and I assured her it was ok. She proceeded to give me a hand mirror & ask “do I want inner done.” 1) Of course I do. Why else am I laying here junk to the sky? 2) I don’t like to see work before it’s finished. A memory of the dentist showing me my post drilled pre filled tooth came to mind. Spare me.

So after I told her to proceed & I didn’t scream she told me, “very good.” She was not going to do backside but this time I requested it with a sort of flipping sign language. My ass was not going to stand being left out of the party 2x in a row.

The grand finale-out comes the hand mirror again. She has me look at my goods & with the enthusiasm a child had opening a long hoped for Christmas present from the 1988 Sears Wish Book, she told me, “You’re so beautiful!!!!” It’s nice to be complimented.

She handed me a towel with a spray on it that felt like acid rain. She recognized my discomfort & then handed me baby oil. My ass was stuck together for hrs after & my vagina was red for 2 days. Naturally there was razor touch ups to be made. Always expect to be disappointed. Of course, the whole beautification came to only $25 before tip. If that’s the beautiful price what do I have to cough up for breathtakingly stunning?

Update: As of June 2017 this place is now closed

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Vajazzle, Or How I Got A Crooked Off Center Colorful Peeing Butterfly On My Vagina

I have been toying with the idea of getting a vajazzle for several years now. A rhinestone glued on design to your waxed vagina. After doing some googling I decided to go to: The Green Spa & Wellness Center

718 921 6100

8804 3rd Avenue Brooklyn NY

This is a call ahead, make an appointment place. Upon walking into the space with tranquil music playing (which is playing throughout the entire facility) I told the woman at the counter my name and was asked to fill out a form-contact information, allergies, medication, that sort of thing. The seating area is in a little room to your right. I did so and after returning the form I just stood in the main area with the products. It felt claustrophobic and off putting to be cornered in this little area.

I was starting to feel anxious, aggravated, tense, at this moment. I can be a very moody person. But I think it was a few things. The little room, yes, bad placement, feeling forced to stand. The woman talking away with one of the estheticians nearby, her baby in hand. I have very little tolerance for babies. That’s fine you can dislike me on that, take a number. The people around me with the bad tattoos. I have a love/hate relationship with old school Brooklyn. Little things started to make me irritable. Such as no one pointed out to me where the tea and water is. And my fault, my ass was totally on fire. Yes that’s right, my ass was burning. The spray I’ve used many times before to numb up, it may be time to retire it.

I decided not to waste time just standing there & see what could I do about my burning ass. I asked where the ladies room was. I used soap and water, wiping myself with toilet paper to attempt to try and wash off the product. Will she notice redness? Will hurt more? We’ll see. The toilet already had toilet paper in it. At the end I saw the flush handle was a pull up handle in the middle of the tank so I could see how someone got confused.

I walked back into the main room. Wait wait wait. Annoyed annoyed annoyed. Then a lovely Latina woman came out, apologizing for the wait. She had more than one job before blah blah. Anyway, I just loved her so much I sat my burning ass down on a chair in the little room & told her to take her time.

When she came back for me we went upstairs. This building is a 3 floor walk up. Small talk commenced. Starting with exercise, her working there 3 years, running up and down those stairs. Finding different exercise because the body gets tolerant. All of that.

We were standing there in the waxing room talking about that. Then she left the room for a moment for me to de-pants and the equivalent of a flat bed sheet was left to cover myself.

When she returned to the room she told me the salon booked me for the vajazzle-she used the word tattoo, but she doesn’t do that. Another annoyance. Why am I laying on the table, pantless, being informed of this now? I said if that wasn’t possible I didn’t want anything. That was the whole point of this visit. She-Tanya, then went down to confer with the other estheticians. When she came up she said after the wax another esthetician would come to do the tattoo. Ok. Now I have to tip 2 people.

I’m laying there, she separates my legs and puts my left leg on a pillow & there was a bright light. She presented me with a book of designs to choose from. Aye yi yi. It was the kind of photo album a teenage girl would buy at the drugstore to put 4×6″ photos in of her friends. Or at least a teenage girl of yesteryear. Instead it had very, very, poor choices of press on rhinestone tattoos. Choices like USA and dollar signs. I felt duped. I felt stuck.

The wax was going on as I thumbed through the book determining my vagina’s fate. Tanya made lots of small talk. She was certainly one of the chattier waxers I’ve had. I really engaged with her. Showed her pics on my cell phone relating to the things we were discussing. And so forth.

We talked about hard wax vs strip and she said she’d use both. I asked her how she got into this. Tanya said she once worked for a very tough boss who still has a salon, she told me the location, that he had her wax someone though she had no training, had never done it before. Which sounds terrifying for both parties. It was that or be fired. She later went to school for proper training.

Tanya was certainly one of the faster waxers I’ve had. A little plucking. She told me multiple times she was going to take all the little hairs off. That she very thorough, particular about herself as well so she understands. That it would all be even for when I’d come back in 2 weeks to a month for another wax. Well I hate to say this because I like Tanya so much, but no, all the little hairs are not gone. Most yes. She was faster than most, no redness, I never held once, she wore gloves, but there was an, albeit a small amount, of hair left. A reminder of what I once was.

She could see I hurt a few times. But I told her it’s ok, I’m tough. She said that’s a good attitude. We’ve all been through worse. Immediately I thought of Trump. Trump is not something you want coming to mind during a Brazilian wax. Tanya thanked me for my patience with her. And it went. Wax wax wax. A little powder. Wax wax wax. A little powder. When Tanya finished she said she wouldn’t put any lotion or anything because the vajazzle was next. When all would be done she’d put a little something. She gave me a gauze panty to put on. And wait.

Then she arrived with another woman. I want to say her name was Mayssa. More chit chat. And Tanya would watch. Let your vagina be an educator. So I picked out out the least innocuous designs I could come up with. One was like a horizontal diamond pattern with a butterfly above it. A butterfly on my vagina. What had my life come too?

Mayssa was having a difficult time getting the diamond pattern to work so she went with another design. Imagine the top of a fountain shooting water. And the butterfly above that. The most poignant “stream” was right below the middle of the butterfly. Which made it look like the butterfly was peeing. And the butterfly was blue. And the water fountain pattern pink. In my mind I just wanted a diamond color, so no color, pattern, no distinctive shape. But now I have a colorful peeing butterfly on my vagina. I hope that’s not an advertisement for water sports.

To stay in form too Mayssa was very nice. A lot of talk-the both of them on how beautiful this is & we do these things for ourselves & compliments on my tattoos. It goes on. They offered to take a picture with my cell phone so I could see it. When Mayssa was doing that I could see she was holding my phone at an angle.

After Tanya put some tea tree oil on me and that was it. Time to get dressed. I was told the vajazzle would be fine in the shower but don’t rub. It would last about a week.

When they left the room for me to dress I wondered if Mayssa held the camera at an angle was because when looking at myself in the mirror I could see it was off center and crooked. Maybe she really couldn’t tell that would happen as she was applying it. Maybe standing is the way to go for applying a vajazzle. So there I was with an off center crooked colorful peeing butterfly on my vagina. I was having a Samantha Jones Bozo the bush moment

When I left the room Tanya was right there. I said I had to tip her on the card because I had no cash on me. She smiled & said ok and talked to me about future visits, trying to put my name in a raffle for a free visit….. I listened and nodded knowing I never go to the same place 2x.

When I went downstairs to pay I was told they don’t do tips on the card (Tanya didn’t correct me upstairs) and the ATM in the spa was broken so I would have to go to the deli next door. Great. Now I get to pay an ATM fee. & the receptionist was about to charge me for an eyebrow job (I thought about getting my eyebrows done but then changed my mind) and they were charging me 2 vajazzles. After talking that down (where is the communication in this place?) it was before tip $97.18. I took 2 $20’s out of the ATM. I had $4 in my wallet. I wish it were $5 but what can you do. I purchased a cookie earlier. I gave $24 to Tanya & $20 to Mayssa. And I signed the credit card receipt with my own pen because the receptionist couldn’t find one.

Walking out I felt my Brooklyn roots coming through me with that off center crooked colorful peeing butterfly. I felt like I should start saying things such as, “Did you go with him or did you go with him?”

By the time that evening rolled around 8 of the rhinestones had already fallen off. & I scratched off the rest in the middle of the night. Rhinestones stuck all over my sheets.

In my vajazzling research I’ve looked up a salon that also does men-pejazzling. I’m curious to see if this will be higher end, custom design. Worth resisting scratching off. Are all ‘jazzles cut from the same bad photo album? We’ll have to see in a future Touch My Girl.

Update: 1) 2 and 3 days post wax I was very dry and flaky, akin to peeling sunburn skin

2) Filling out that form has now put me on an e-mail list of theirs, similar to what happened with Haven Spa. More e-mail I will not open. What everyone wants. 

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A Classic Sandwich 

Very exciting-this entry is not by me but is rather a guest post! I frequently encourage people to share their stories so I’m super pumped to receive one. It comes from a woman I’m calling E. I laughed out loud reading it, causing people surrounding me to either think I’m crazy or appreciate something was bringing me joy and in turn causing them to smile (waxing can spread like grape jelly as E writes, & it can also spread surrounding happiness!) Speaking of grape jelly, E’s writing gave me a tinge of, gosh why didn’t I think of wording a story like that! She’s a professional waxing journalist & she didn’t even know it. Also, NYC has European Wax Centers & though I’ve always avoided them because I feel it’s my duty to visit the dodgy places, I’m tempted to take myself to one for a treat. Thank You E for this. I just love it.

European Wax Center, Gellert Blvd., Daly City, CA

It’s 9:45 AM on a Saturday, and even though I’m still bleary-eyed and caffeine-free, a cheerful middle-aged woman is spreading cobalt blue wax onto my labia like grape jelly on a peanut butter sandwich.

Even though I go to this salon on a regular basis, today I’m getting my first real Brazillian: everything off the front, butt strip, full stomach wax. While I’ve been getting my eyebrows and lip (and, ok, more recently, chin) waxed on a regular basis for close to 20 years, I’ve only dipped my toe into the water of more… umm… personal waxing over the past year. And this is the first time I’ve had the guts to get rid of everything.

The reason is simple: I had been in a monogamous relationship for the majority of those 20 years, and this whole Brazillian trend came long after me and my partner were parked on the couch eating pizza and watching Sex and the City, instead of actively going out and getting it from strangers.

But things change. At the spring-chicken age of 36, I find myself single, and dating. And whether I like it or not, bare is the order of the day. The one exception I experienced to this rule was a feisty bisexual graduate student who pretty much refused to go to bed with me until I grew out my bush. But mildly crazy pseudolesbians aside, I’ve been led to believe that most people nowadays expect hairlessness. So here I am.

My waxer is D. and she works for European Wax Center, a large national chain of salons that I’ve been frequenting since moving to California 5 years ago. I have a regular waxer, A., who does my facial waxing, but she wasn’t available today, and I have a date tomorrow that I hope leads to naked fun times, so I agree to see whomever is available.

When I arrive, I ask D. whether she wants to do stomach or Brazillian first, and she insists that we do the Brazillian. So I drop trou while D. stirs the wax and prepares her supplies in the other corner of the room. I hop up on a paperlined table. All the rooms in the place are private, with real doors and walls, and precanned hits from early aughts blare from some speaker I can’t quite see.

D. wears gloves, and doesn’t double dip. This is hard wax, no strips are involved, so she has to pry off a little bit of the wax at the edge before she rips each strip off me in two sharp pulls. She asks me to exhale sharply each time, just like my Pilates teacher does when we’re focusing on our deep abdominals.

D. does the most painful bits first, which I appreciate. Despite this blog’s insistent advice, i haven’t numbed myself up with anything, or taken Advil. Maybe I’m a masochist, or just lazy. Still the pain isn’t too bad. Thankfully, I got a regular bikini wax a little over a month ago, so I don’t have that much hair to remove this time around. For the back, she doesn’t have me flip over, just hug my knees to my chest.

We chitchat throughout. I discover that D.’s husband works for a law firm, just like I do, and tell her all about my amazing birthday party the day before. This makes the whole process way less awkward: she’s a professional, performing a professional service. I’m a strong believer in “it’s not awkward, unless you make it awkward,” and this certainly bears out in my waxing.

D. manages to get most of the hair off after a single strip, but does a second pass to clean up some leftover, which doesn’t hurt at all. I tell her not to bother with the tweezers. She spreads some serum to prevent in-growns and we’re off to the stomach. I offer to put on underwear for this bit but she waves me off: she wants to make sure that she gets all the little hair in between. And it’s fine: after the past 20 minutes, I don’t even mind that I’m lying spread-eagle, naked from the waist down.

The total is $78 for the Brazilian plus full stomach, and I leave a $20 tip. I feel like D. earned it for being my first. I prebook my next appointment for a month out, and plan to keep it (unless my fun bisexual friend resurfaces again).

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One Word: Vagacial 

A guilty habit of mine I’m trying to break is in the evenings I’ll eat a big meal & scroll through BuzzFeed. I got rid of TV to lessen my distractions to goals I’m trying to accomplish. But you know, if it’s not one thing it’s another. I suppose though I’m glad I hadn’t broken the habit prior to this otherwise we might not be here right now.
BuzzFeed did two stories on the Vagacial. That’s right. I was surprised myself. In short, this is a facial for your vagina. It will treat ingrown hairs you may have from shaving or waxing, & ideally soften & brighten the skin through applications being moisturizers/a scrub/& a mask.

The first story goes into detail what happens & why you would get one:

The second story is a more emotional, personal account of a diverse group of women who received them. Even the tough cookie I am was a bit moved:

So after reading both articles I knew Touch My Girl had to go on a field trip.

The salon offering this in NYC is Haven Spa located at 250 Mercer Street, New York NY. & Vagacial is just a nickname. This treatment at the spa is titled, “The Peach Smoothie.” Which if you ask me is a bit racist. Why not the, “Mocha Frappe?” But politics aside, let me get on with my Smoothie experience.

I called the day prior to make an appointment. As you can read in my writings I tend to just waltz into a salon for a wax but this is a higher end spa treatment so an appointment was in order. The receptionist asked me if I had a wax 3 or 4 days prior. The last episode I blogged about occurred on 4/8 & this was to take place on 4/19. So 11 days gap. & there was no growth except for the bit of shave cleanup I’d need to do because that wax was less than. So I just said yes. Believe me, I’ve told bigger lies.

The next day, spa day arrives! The waiting room was very clean, spacious, & a lot of beauty products displayed for sale. There were 2 ladies at the front desk & upon checking in I was given a form to fill out back & front. Something you might see like at a doctor’s office. Basic contact info, how did you hear about us. No emergency contact. None of you will be called about a Vagacial gone wrong! There were questions of allergies to anything, have I had any medical procedures in so many months, could I be pregnant, and what was I expecting to get from this visit. I really didn’t know what to expect. I’ve had a lot of thoughts and ideas about things I may do in life. A vagina facial was never one of them.

The delightful receptionist, Cindy, lead me into another room, a lounge room. There were infused waters & coconut water I could help myself to but we were chatting away about animals & my job, I didn’t take a moment to pour myself some.

The esthetician Maria walked in & told me she was ready for me. Here we go!

It was really a nice room. I have nothing to say about dirt or dust here & there. This was definitely a more upscale place than my usual haunts. She said I could hang my jacket on the hanger, on the back of the door, and I could put my other things-bags, pants on the chair. I almost put them on the wrong chair but Maria corrected me. A room with more than 1 chair, baby is moving up in the world!

She told me to get undressed pants wise and there was a large white towel to put over myself. She’d be back in a few minutes. I did such, laid down, & listened to the classical music playing overhead.

When Maria came in she told me she’d turn on a very bright light to help her work and because of that she was going to cover my eyes with a towel. So here on reporting, at least for awhile, will be non visual. Just sensation. Which now that I’m writing this sounds mildly erotic. And I think writing ahead may read as mildly erotic. But you’ll just have to deal with it.

There I am laying down, towel over eyes. She pulled the towel over my waist to my ankles, put me in frog legs position, and gave me a brief look over/examination-what would she have to work with. I spoke about my last waxing experience, how I had a small shave up that morning. She wiped me down with a hot towel and something very moisturizing. The next step was the removal of ingrowns. Reading the 1st BuzzFeed piece you’ll see it says the esthetician uses a lancet and tweezers to get the job done. I didn’t remember the lancet part as she was working. It just felt like super industrial tweezers. It didn’t feel good. But it hurt less than the tweezing process during a waxing. She made small talk with me. Very alike to when a physician is drawing your blood and chit chats with you as a distraction. I asked her if the salon does men & if not does she know of any salons/spas that do. She said no. That there are treatments at Haven Spa for men but not this one. She said, I quote, “You can see I’m really in there.” She tossed out the idea if a spa is come across that does Brazilians for men, theoretically they could do this procedure. So anyone looking for a business idea, here it is! You could corner the market! I truly believe everyone should have this opportunity. Doors open to all genitalia!

As we continued to speak I actually went mind blank a couple of times. First off was she was discussing with me my waxing habits and she used the wording, “hard wax” vs “soft wax.” In a serendipitous fashion, my friend Isabel was talking about hard wax just a couple of days earlier. Soft wax is when the pull, removal is with the strip. So wax-strip-pull. Hard wax is when the wax itself is the pull. No additional strip. I scanned my past Touch My Girl entries and unless I missed something I see I was offered something similar to that once before. My reference is from the entry, “Traveling Abroad, Vagina Packed.” This is when I got waxed in London & was offered “strip wax” vs “hot wax.” And the “hot wax,” which is what I got, was the same procedure as, “hard wax.” So there you go. I’m just all fancy & work with European terminology.

2nd mind blank she asked about my routine care. I answered besides regular waxing I wash with a soap designed for your vagina. Listening to myself I felt I was coming up short. Like it wasn’t enough. I didn’t even think about doing a home exfoliant or mask before this day or knew there were those products designed for that area of the body. Around 2011 I was visiting a friend in Connecticut & she had the Summer’s Eve wash in her shower. I thought, that’s a good idea. I should be using that. I’ve upped my game since then and am currently using Organyc Intimate Wash because it’s more natural.

Maria talked about beauty care products she’d introduce me to. I’m jumping ahead here but when I checked out I was only presented with a product to reduce ingrowns. I didn’t purchase it. I don’t like to feel pressured to make a purchase like that. & I’m being a bad reporter & not remembering the name of it. But it’s there if you or I want to make a purchase. And if the spa is not within your range you may contact them and inquire about it.

After I was plucked and pulled, she sprayed the fruit acid peel on me and asked if it was burning. I certainly gave an firm yes to that! She said that was good. That mean it was working. Small talk continued and I asked if she ever had this done. She has not. Next step was more cleaning and moisturizing and then came the mask. After the mask was applied she put the towel back over me and told me she’d leave me for a bit. The bright light went off as well as the towel on my face.

Now alone I lifted the towel to see how my gal was doing. I don’t know if this mask had some sort of clay or volcanic ash component but she was jet black. So I just laid there awhile with my jet black vagina and thought, this is good. I’m glad I’m doing this. After all I’ve put her through. After all the hole in the wall salons (it’s nice when a pun works itself out), she deserves this.

Maria came in and cleaned off the mask and one more layer of moisturizer. She said I was still a bit red but that would subside. She left for the last time & I was now to get dressed. It was a lot of cream down there. I wiped some off but maybe you’d just want to let it remain. Get your money’s worth.

Back to the front counter & Cindy smiled & asked me how was it? I answered, “Good, yeah good.” I declined to purchase the ingrown hair product. Perhaps another day. & perhaps another day I’ll peruse their shelves of beauty products. The price was $57.48 and I tipped 20% so in total, $68.48. I am now on an e-mail list too from filling out that form. It’s your standard-appointment reminders, specials, write reviews sort of thing.

That evening at home I took a look at myself. Then, and the next day, and the day after that, looked like you would look if you shaved & had very decent razor burn. I’m not making a complaint here. I have only done this once. With continued visits would my skin improve? That’s a question left to be answered and I do not think I’ll be the one answering it for you. Because the next question- was it worth it? For me- yes and no. I’m glad I did it. But I do not think I will do it again, I don’t feel like I’ve improved at all. And I don’t think I have enough damage done by ingrowns that the tweezer/lancet work is really necessary. The rest of the symphony is quite lovely though. & I do think it’s nice to feel pampered. & I do firmly believe this should be available for all genders. If you like doing this, then go you. You do you. & you should treat your body like the gem it is. So I say go for it. Give it a try. Everyone deserves a little fancy now & again. 

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I Can See It All

My most recent waxing adventure occurred at Jade Beauty & Wellness Spa located at 2573 Broadway on the Upper West Side.It has an upstairs, which is where I was taken to but from the outside it looks quite small. But we all know looks can be deceiving.

The place was nicely decorated. I rather liked the circular red doors. Audio wise, predominantly quiet-instrumental music mixed with bird sounds. Depending on how it would all go down this could be a curse or a blessing as I really love birds. But I don’t want to now associate them with my vagina melting off.

The woman stayed in the room as I undressed and new one-there was a wall mirror facing my crotch. It’s like when you get to view your own surgery.

The friendly waxer wore no gloves. I asked her if I could keep my phone in my hand. I like to take notes as it goes but I’ve been scolded for phone usage while flat backed on the table. However this waxer encouraged me to do so. She thought it would be a fine distraction to the process.

Full disclosure: I numbed up at a friend of mine’s home in Williamsburg prior. (Only a true friend lets you lidocaine your labia in their lavatory!) I intended to go a salon down the block from him but when I got there they said 20 min wait & I was all, nah, I’ll proceed with my day. As the thoughts rolled in on the subway I decided I’ll see if I come across a salon when I get out. I’m an environmentalist-I don’t like to waste! Of course the point being here is it may have worn itself off leading to increased pain.

So we began. She commented on the nice weather. She said my hair was not too long. So it all seemed like it was going to be a smooth traffic free drive.

It seemed pretty normal for awhile. It may have been my numbing spray wearing off or it could have just been too hot but twice as she applied wax pretty far along the session I did that snake sound you make with your teeth. The onomatopoeia of the sound my vagina skin was making. I think she was a bit worried about this. She commented on some of my hair would be too short to remove. Damned if you do damned if you don’t.

There were some hold moments & yes of course I put the phone down for that. Then the regular question if I wanted the back entrance done & of course I said yes to which she replied that was an extra charge. Tssk tssk. I should have made the snake sound with my teeth again. But on I went with the show-for a short while.

I don’t know what happened, as backside is supposed to be the easiest for wimmin (I hear it’s the opposite for men) but for the 1st time I tapped out. 2 strips in & I asked her to stop. Later inspection of my bum showed that cheek to be beat red.

And after my calling it enough I flipped back over like the piece of meat I was for tweezing. Another 1st, after that she put the tweezers in an ultraviolet light box. Who needs soap & water?

I got dressed after a slight wipe down. Looking myself over I knew this would require a shave.

My half shorn vagina came to $47 + $10 tip. It would’ve been nice if they threw in a free razor. 

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Let Your Genitalia Be Your Christmas Tree

I had not gotten waxed in a looooong time. I know its vagina blasphemy, vlasphemy, but I’ve been doing the old shaving. Sometimes NYers get busy. & I hadn’t done any basement maintenance since November. Winter wear I suppose. But I pulled myself up by my thong and went for it on a brutally cold day. It’s kind of like that smoker subconscious attitude, like smoking a cigarette will somehow warm you up during a chill. Could a Brazilian wax do the same?

I went rich pussy style & got waxed at Blooming Nails & Spa located at 430 E. 72nd St in Manhattan.

It was a very clean, quiet place with 2 partition waxing rooms. A woman age wise who could’ve been my mother was my waxer. Her name tag let me know her name was Eunice.

A light FM like radio station was playing overhead. The Police’s, Every Breath You Take first played. This combined with the smell of Johnson’s Baby Powder & the golden vine wallpaper decorating the place that was reminiscent of my nana’s living room gave me a sensation of being watched. Like I was doing something taboo.

Eunice wore no gloves as she made the scissors motion with her digits to tell me she was going to cut some. Like I said, winter wear. That’s ok. I’m sure on that slow freezing day I gave them something to gab about. Though I will say the whole process took an hr & 10 min & I wondered if her arms were getting tired. When I was a teenager I worked as a waitress. On a busy day I could go forever. Your adrenaline is pumping. On a slow day someone walks in & you go, “Oh dammit.” Whatever. You do a lot if wondering on that table.

She worked slowly but carefully. I was never asked to hold once. My silence caused her to give me a pat on the upper right arm & say, “You’re so good.” What could be heard were hits like Survivor’s, Eye of the Tiger (Oh if they only knew!), Madonna’s, Like a Virgin (There’s a chuckle for you.), & J. Geils Band’s, Centerfold (Hey sometimes you just gotta spread eagle.)

The wax was seemingly cooler than usual at first but I don’t know if its heat increased or if it was my sensitivity but the temperature absolutely rose. A woman went into the neighboring waxing room & I could hear she was getting eyebrows and armpits done. In my mind I thought armpits sounded painful and then the second thought of I’m having lava streaked across my crotch rolled in.

I gave one flinch during the whole time as she really worked on one area. I think Eunice was pleased by this. The small arm pat happened again followed with a, “yes.” It assured her I was actually human. She may have been testing that throughout the wax because more often than not after a pull she gave that area a small slap.

She turned me over for a complete job. Coming full circle to youth, at the end of that area she pulled out a spray bottle & said, “This is Sea Breeze” and sprayed away.

1) I have not used Sea Breeze since the 90s & certainly not in that area.

2) Never ever let anyone do that to you. Holy mother the burning.

Then back I was facing the ceiling for a final tweeze. I’ve said it before & I’ll say it again, I’m sure- but she left some remainders of winter wear behind. I’ll never understand not wanting to complete your work.

There was a final pat with an added, “Good job,” and a reminder to come monthly.

The bill came to $95 and I tipped her $20. When waxing near York Avenue expect to shell out for your shell.

Earlier that day I was in the home of a delightful single woman who had put up a Christmas Tree this year. Actually, I went to more than one home this holiday season where the occupant was single and still put up a Christmas Tree. & Why not? Your eyes, your vision, your space around you matters. How you take care of yourself effects how you function in the outside world.

So whatever your status this past winter, this recent holiday season, if you want a wax you get a wax. Celebrate yourself. Love yourself the most. Let your genitalia be your Christmas Tree.

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The Complete Opposite Of No Backside

One recent summer day I went to Beauty Nails at 1655 1st Avenue in Manhattan.

I was taken to the back waxing room immediately & only asked then what kind of wax I wanted. Brazilian didn’t cause an eye to bat.

It was a spacious room that connected to another room via sliding door. After myself & the waxer walked into the room, she left the door open while she spread paper on the waxing table. I got a picture of the table at the end, after the paper was removed. Both the fabric on the table & wallpaper had a dated, grandmotherly feel. But whatever. Grandmas are entitled to waxing too. She left the room for me to undress & let me know when she’d come back she’d come through the sliding door. 

Once I did so & she returned & I was on the table, she then presented me with what would be a velcro skirt towel but not to wear, just to have rolled up draped around my waist. Which did nothing. I guess the novice waxee might like a towel but really-what am I holding onto at this point? I’d like to add there was a lot of hair stuck in the velcro. 

It was very quiet in there. No music played & minimum conversation was had between us. Just the slight, “Everything?” &, “This leg.” 

She wore gloves. It was a very thorough & clean process. There was washing me, then powdering me. She applied a lot of wax at once-you’d think it’d get too cool before the pull but it worked. And then after each pull she applied gel. This was a first. You’re lucky if you get a cooling gel at the end but I got it after each strip. Also, they were fabric strips. I really didn’t hold myself with the exception of 1 leg in the air at a time. 

The ceiling was a drop ceiling. Staring at it I thought about places I’ve been with drop ceilings. I had never thought of these places in conjunction with waxing before. Another first.

Now, alluding to the title, the bum. 3rd thing that happened for the first time-she had me lay on my side, not jack-knifed or on my stomach or on all fours. I tell you people, new adventures await you each day.

I could’ve fallen asleep. Who doesn’t love an afternoon nap? It was wash-wax-gel-tweeze-wash. It was as if lackluster waxes gone by were being made up for.

The ending was me on my back again and more tweezing, wash, gel. She informed me there were a few hairs she felt weren’t ready for tweezing yet & to make sure I was ok with everything. I didn’t even see any hairs. Her waxer eagle eyes must be what’s needed to spot them.

It came to $36 & I tipped her $10.

Add on: as I was getting dressed she packed up her tweezers in a plastic box & left the room with them so I can’t report any inspections to you. These waxers must be reading the blog & catching on! 

Vagina News:
-Buzzfeed featured Rate Me, one of the stories from the collection of short stories in The Bed Moved by Rebecca Schiff & I’m so glad they did because I’m looking forward to reading the collection & possibly writing to Ms. Schiff. Rate me is a body part rating system including the vagina and it brings up hairiness. I like the imagery of a vagina in a satin box. I feel reading, “I want to improve.” I said. “I want my vagina to improve.”

The Instagram page yourshittyfamily posted a text discussing shaving but with the joke she’ll need a lawn mower for her vajayjay. I think my eyes are now drawn to anything on this topic. I put the blog in the comments section. Hopefully it’ll bring more readers!
Look at the post on their page from 7/29/2016 to see it.

My dear friend Darlene Charneco sent me this site. It seems like there is even more than a book here. It’s a whole Petals movement.

My comment on this ties in a bit to the short story by Schiff. I like the Petals idea, another book to read, I don’t love the name Petals though. It brings to mind seeing the Kathy & Mo show & they were discussing feminine hygiene products & the slogan, “Fresh As A Daisy” came up. I don’t need to call my labia petals to beautify anything. Labia will do. Clearly in the blog I like to joke. I use terms like, “the queen.” But humor is different than trying to use words I think would make part of my body more attractive.

Now that being said-“more attractive.” From appreciating your vagina for what it is and from saying, “I want to improve.” I said. “I want my vagina to improve.” What is the place of Touch My Girl? Would it be marked as a statement that I think something is wrong with you? That you must wax! Well, I hope not. I do this because I want to do this. If someone does or does not find it attractive is irrelevant. It’s how I mentally see myself. It’s not that I think my tattoos make me more or less attractive. They’re how I mentally see myself. You do what works for you. I’ll do what works for me. It takes a lot to write a blog like this. People see you in a different way. You’ll lose friends & gain unwanted dick pics. I think that shows a true appreciation & love of the self & womanhood that I continue to write on. 

So Vagina Valor! Pussy Power! And fuck if it does your heart happy-Petals Power!  


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