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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Vagina Cake

This latest waxing adventure takes us to Nails By Amy located at 2907 Fort Hamilton Parkway. It’s a spacious, fairly quiet salon with only the radio playing softly. The front is the manicure section and the back is the pedicure section, divided by a beaded curtain. You really make your presence known at Nails By Amy. The door has chimes and looking up at you are the few meat & potatoes moms in there and the esthetician loudly saying, “What kind of wax you want?” 

I waited for a few minutes, looking at the thrift store art decorating the place. She (Amy?? We’ll never know.) then came up to me, while on the phone, & gestured to me to follow her to the back. On the walk there I got my hair stuck in the plastic flowers hanging from the ceiling.

She rolled out some paper onto the table and left the room for a minute so I could disrobe. I hadn’t even gotten my underwear off by the time she returned. I commented to her how fast she was and that she’s a busy lady. When I laid down on the table I still had my phone in hand. I formerly just remembered everything but I have since gotten into the habit of taking notes in the during. She gestured no to me, that I could use my phone later. I apologized and said that I’m a busy lady too which she laughed at.

She put the waxing pot between my legs and told me to be careful. She put on gloves but it wasn’t long into the wax before she removed one. I quickly learned why I couldn’t use my phone. The entire time she moved both of my hands into different positions to hold myself. I felt like I was carrying a load of the work & that I should get a discount.

Some of the wax was very hot. Me, a self proclaimed pro waxee at this point, found myself scrunching my eyes at times. She also had a distinctive way of applying the wax. It was as if she was icing a cake. Which poses the oh so important question-If your vagina was a cake, what kind of cake would it be?”

She thanked me for holding here and there. As she should. My hands are still sticky with wax residue. She asked me if I wanted inside done. That inside would hurt a little bit. And she asked me if I was ok after. She got a waxing strip stuck and checked in on my well being at that point too.

She’d pull up my tush & really lean in to get as far back as possible while I was laying down. A flip over would have been much more efficient but it wasn’t offered and I didn’t ask. Always always always when that is not automatically included or even at least offered that dramatically drops a place on my waxing scale.

She went in with the tweezers a bit. When all was said and done she wiped me down with some blue solution. No baby powder. & I noticed a waxing strip stuck to my sock. It was like a bad date but then it would’ve been a condom stuck there. When she left the room and I got dressed I checked the tweezers area-sure enough hairs were present. 

They stayed there in their final resting place and I walked out the door to pay her $30 & $10 tip. The wax took 20 minutes.

I think I shall now tip myself for all of the effort I put into this process & buy some new undies to make my vagina feel okay about herself again.

 Fine Art


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Vagina On A Soapbox 

I first want to write about some things all vagina-terrific because it’s my blog & I’ll do what I want to.
1) My pal Jamie Mareno hosted at an event in February titled Party (period)* Days For Girls Fundraiser at The Brick House Brewery in Patchogue, NY. It was to benefit Days For Girls which is a non profit to give every woman and girl in the world feasible quality hygiene and health education. The event raised $ to fund feminine hygiene kits. I thought this was a really great event and an issue that does not get enough traffic. You can follow the Facebook event page for further info. I posted some things to that page I thought the readers would have an interest in. There were news stories about the tampon tax battle, a woman’s project of writing feminist messages on maxi pads and posting them, and a theprojectperiod.comThe Facebook event page: https://www.facebook.com/events/752785934854535/

2) Important event happening in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn April 2nd. The event is The Mother Of All Baby Showers at the 68th precinct 333 65th St 9:30-12:30 The event is to support local victims who have fled domestic violence. Items to bring for donations, unwrapped, “baby shower” gifts:
New Unless Otherwise Specified 

New or gently used front/rear car seats

New or gently used strollers


Diaper bags



Baby clothes

Baby oil

Baby lotion

Baby powder

Baby wipes


Baby monitors

Baby thermometers 

Baby caps

Mucus pullers


Baby gloves


Baby blankets

Burping clothes

Toddler clothes

And for nursing mothers:
Nursing pads


Shower gels/soaps

Face wash

Sanitary napkins




Gift cards 

Perfume samples

Shower caps

Thank you for reading about and maybe even getting involved with those matters. Now onto the “gossip column!” In latest waxing news…….
My latest hairdo occurred at BeBe Nail Salon 541 3rd Ave in Murray Hill.

This is one of my more uneventful waxes to report. Which I suppose I a good thing, a positive review in a way. No hair coated tools or searing flesh to chime in about. It’s the Plain Jane of Brazilian Waxing venues. But I could make the case that’s what a Brazilian Wax is. Minimalism at its finest.

It was rather quiet and the waxer stayed in the room while I undressed. Good thing I didn’t have any epic amounts of lotion to wipe off. To keep with the sterile theme she wore both gloves & a mask & applied baby powder to me more than once. The room was a full small separate room, not partition. And it was just a stark white table.

To be matchy matchy full, not broken sticks were used. Paper, not fabric strips were used-we’re being simple here!

The simplicity moves towards zen as she moved my legs for me. I had no work to do on my own with the exception of knees to chest/jackknife for the tail.

And then the end was just as easy, cleanser applied after, 20 minutes in & out, & just a few stragglers left. It was $35 & I tipped her $10.

This wax was kind of like a short Bruce Springsteen song. Sort of satisfyingly yet anti climatic.

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It Finally Happened

  I have found the oasis in the desert. I have found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I have discovered the lost city of Atlantis and it’s being run by mermaids.
I just got the best wax of my life.

Urban Nails at 222 E53rd St. 2nd Fl has ruined me for other places. It will be difficult going to other salons in the name of research.

It definitely sneaks up on you. Anytime you have to go upstairs to a place I feel like you’re running a risk. Like I can’t just look through the window at street level. It’s fairly quiet, partition room with mismatched bedding and peeling wall decals. There was a TV in the room but it wasn’t on. It was time for Wheel of Fortune too : / But oh well. They don’t need to keep up with appearances because the power is in their performance.

The woman asked me how my day was! Are you even listening to me here???

The wax was not hot at all & she didn’t ask me to hold once. 2 positions-frog legs and knees to chest. She didn’t wear gloves but again, minor detail! She asked me if I was ok and I said yes & asked her if she was ok & she said she was great!

It was one of the fastest waxes ever. I commented on that and she said you want to go quickly. This isn’t a massage! There were like 2 tweezer plucks after, no trimming, and she applied aloe lotion to me & gave me a mirror. Stunning! You could serve dinner off of my vagina! When she left the room I checked the tweezers/scissors drawer & totally clean. I don’t hurt at all. Not a drop of blood. 

It was $40 & I tipped her $20 I was so thrilled.

I love you Urban Nails. City girls know how to do it! 

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A Thundering Vagina

Q Spa located at 91 5th avenue in Park Slope, Brooklyn is where our tale unfolds. This place really embodies the term, “The calm before the storm.”

You walk in to low ambient music and women & men getting manis & pedis.

By the back partition waxing room there is a Buddhist shrine that features a bottle of wine. The waxing table had bright coverings of various colors.

I was given more time than usual to disrobe & get comfortable.

A woman then entered with the rarity of wearing both a mask & gloves. She simply asked me, “The whole thing?” To which I naturally replied yes.

Her work began with cleaning me with alcohol. She used whole wooden sticks to apply the wax. She would blow on the wax first & then after applying the wax, when it was time for the strip, she’d put the stick in her mouth, bending her mask. 

She had a habit of after putting a strip on she’d also pat it down 2x. It was like an OCD move.

She kind of worked all over. Wax, then a trim. Before she began her 1st trim she dropped the scissors on the floor. But she did clean them after. There was holding this leg in the air & then the next, then both. Then a wax. Then a trim. It’s an odd sensation to have someone blow all over your bits after a trim to scatter the hair. There was the “hold here” request. There was also the degrading move of having me rest a leg on her back.

She took a very long time. I saw she was down to 1 glove. I composed texts about various to dos as she went along. Time management. The tuchkes definitely hurt more than it ever had. It was an, “Am I bleeding?” moment said to myself. It kind of dawned on me then she did not know what she was doing.

And then it kind of dawned on her that same fact. Because for the first time in my waxing history she called for backup. In rolls Sophia. I know this because of her name tag. She exclaimed something in a language that I do not understand. I also noticed around this time the ambient music had stopped. The storm commences.

Sophia was not messing around. No gloves & pulling my skin tighter than I have ever had it pulled before. Her fingers were really pressing on my inner self. Lots of quick pulls. This was the closest I have ever come to feeling exposed and violated at a salon. I started to feel like I don’t know how much more I can take. And then the storm came to a halt. She didn’t want to do the inner labia. Which let’s face it is kind of the focal point of a wax. Potentially the most difficult to shave & that’s why you get a wax. She was afraid she’d hurt me. Well sweetheart you don’t know where I’ve been & I assure you that’s not what would have hurt me. You pulling me apart like you’re trying to draw & quarter me that’s another story. Let’s get our priorities in check. 

But I was so, dare I say emotionally broken, I told them just stop. I just want to get out of here. She offered to clean me, to work a little more. A visually shaken me gave a brief statement how I have never had an experience like this & I want to leave. Now.

So they left the room. I briefly assessed the situation & yup, I’m shaving that hard to reach spot. You know, the whole reason for this trip was for my upcoming check up at Planned Parenthood. I heard a dear woman in her 80s who has since left this planet say once she always gets groomed before a doctor checkup so the doctor doesn’t have to part the forest to find the trees. Yes that was tmi, but I know her intent was just to make me laugh & that’s my hope for this entry. Don’t cry for my broken vagina but rather have a giggle.

The only saving grace for this venue is since they knew I was so disturbed they only charged me for a bikini rather than a Brazilian & it came to 15.75 with tax. It was the first time I didn’t tip.

A little shout out: Planned Parenthood has had a rough time as of late but it’s still the best gig going for check ups http://www.plannedparenthood.org 

 My goal going forward with this blog is to grace you with lovely images of the beds I lay upon

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Stop Being So Nice

I always feel out of place on the Upper East Side. Like I’m not up to par with it. So I’m surprised the salon, Polaris Nail & Spa on York Avenue between 77th and 78th street is still going. I’m surprised the Upper East Side residents are satisfied with their service.

I waltzed in on a warm day and the waxing room was of no temperature relief. Maybe I can pretend like I got a free sauna treatment at the same time.

The lime green room with an autumnal bedspread beneath the vinyl & paper & matching wall print had a small cut out near the top wall. Maybe so the nail goers could also get a free spectator sport listening to the screams of the waxee. Always a bonus here! But I am no screamer & was congratulated for that. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I was taken to that room promptly and wax given less that 2 minutes alone to drop trou. Speed is king. Maybe queen actually. After laying on the table, which I should say also had a large mirror on the wall next to me for my viewing pleasure, the waxer, a late-middle aged Asian woman grabbed the pot of wax and put it between my legs. Ah my favorite, the added suspense of a possible burn. She used the same stick the whole time. Again, getting ahead of myself, but when this wax ended, she just plopped the pot of wax back on the shelf. This is double dipping at it’s finest. I hope there’s a piggy bank with the $ this salon is saving on sticks to pay for infections.

Broken record statement-no gloves were worn. But really, if we’re double dipping here, then what are we  clinging to? She asked me if this was my 1st wax and we all know my answer there. She informed me & I quote, “I check everything.” This proved to be a false statement and really, who likes being lied to?

What she should have said was, “I clean everything” because she wiped & powdered more between each pull than I think any waxer has done for me before. This is an oddity-so sloppy w/the double dip, but neurotic with the wipe. Check your work people. Some tweaking to one step can make another more efficient.

New data for this place-new moves were learned. She grabbed my right leg and threw it over her back. My calf was resting on her back. Being like this, having my physical body resting on an Asian woman old enough to be my mother as she worked away on my goods, this gave me the feeling of some asshole privileged white lady. I don’t feel embarrassed being all spread eagle in front of a stranger. But this made me uncomfortable. And she moved along really reaching behind-this is as far as backside wax was achieved but once again, jumping the gun. Another new move was spreading my limbs, grabbing my knee, & tucking it under her arm.  It’s like she took a course in waxing instructed by MacGyver. 

The symphony continued with trimming and more waxing and culminating in tweezing and to keep up with standards, both utensils we then tossed in a box with no wipe down & the box contained hairs. If these hairs could talk.

Joe Jackson’s, “Is She Really Going Out With Him?” was playing on the overhead. I felt like if there was a waxing scene in Valley Girl or Fast Times At Ridgemont High, I was recreating it now. 

At the end of this dance she thanked me for not screaming & that I helped her by not screaming. I asked her if a lot of people screamed. She answered yes to that and told me the woman who was here before me had drunk wine. If that pot of wax was double dipped with her I thought, maybe my vagina will get drunk? But no such sensation, whatever that would be, I have to report.

She ended the session by telling me tonight to only wash with water. Save washing with soap for tomorrow. My feeling though with the lack of hygiene going on at this salon I should’ve dunked my bits in bleach. 

Backside was not offered & I didn’t inquire. Even though she did a lot of reaching behind, you can’t achieve perfection without the flip over. Additionally a fair amount of stragglers were left. All this can be your’s for $42 before tip and you will be in and out the door within 30 minutes.

Her pleasantness combined with the fact for lack of better description I felt like I was put in a classist position, literally, froze me from complaining. Maybe her niceness is her superpower.  I need to develop a crotch that’s kryptonite to pleasantries.

In culmination I would like to say to Polaris Nail & Spa, don’t mask poor work with a smile. Live up to your name and shoot your wagon to the North Star!

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My Vagina Got In A Pillow Fight

What did I pay for at Iris Nail located on University Place? I’m still asking myself this question. The place is 2 level, spacious, and your standard nails being done on the main floor. I don’t know what lies below but my waxer ascended like some powerful figure from a film. A sci fi creature. A god. A mobster. Whatever. It was all very, “I have come for your princess.” 

I was lead to a back room, completely separate, no partition room. It had sage green lush looking wallpaper and I noticed whoever laid it did a rather good job of assuring the pattern lined up. There was a candle wall sconce with crystals dangling from it. Piano music was playing on the overhead. It was as if being in the Christopher Walken SNL Welshly Arms skit. If the Welshly Arms offered a waxing experience, I was having it now.

She asked me if I would like regular or sensitive. I have never been asked this before! I inquired what was the difference & she simply replied-price & I would be less red. Aha-price, like upgrading from coach to 1st class. So all in the name of research I went for the sensitive. I suppose that’s what I invested in. Science.

I would like to back up & say I did not use Relax N’ Wax No Scream Cream this round. Long story short, I can’t find where mine is currently & so I went to Ricky’s to purchase more. Alas, they were out. All they had was the anesthetizing spray by GiGi which I wrote about in a previous blog post, having a not positive time with it. But I decided to go for it anyway. Better than nothing was my ‘tude. I plunked down $11.97 and secured my defense weaponry. All this spray really is by the way is lidocaine masking itself as  a valorous vagina shield. 

In this spray experience I will say the con is there is a sting when applied. The pro is you can do it just minutes before the wax & when you drop trou there is no pre wax wiping to be attended to. & sensitive or no sensitive option, I do think the spray did something. So moral of the tale is Ricky’s being out of my original choice resulted in a happy accident.

Now back to the wax! 

My waxer, a well dressed no gloved woman applied not too hot wax & stripped it off with thicker, softer than usual pads. That was my first observation with this sensitive business. I felt like my vagina was getting into a pillow fight. I was very at ease during the procedure. I had a difficult time staying awake. On the same block as the salon is a coffee shop. They should really team up. The cafe could be making some serious bank keeping the wax customers alert. *Note-I have been informed by a waxer that ingesting caffeine before a wax increases sensitivity. So this business model needs more research. The only time I felt I had to perk up was when she wanted me to bring my knees to my chest for a bit. That doesn’t happen too often but it’s not unheard of. She did not ask me to hold myself at all.

After the waxing-$10 more was charged for the backside, Tssk Tssk, some tweezing was done to the front. Tweezing footnote-after all was said & done & I was dressing I took a look at the tweezers & as usual in my experience they were tossed in a container. Not cleaned. Hair casualties present. This time it was a knock off designer coin purse. Maybe she would have cleaned them if it were name brand? 

Sensitive wax observation #2-more baby oil, cleanser applied after. No baby powder. Also, a so called cooling gel was also used & I noticed on the bottle it was also made by GiGi. But cooling my sweet punany. I wanted to scream, “It’s on FIRE!!!!!!!” Last & most disappointing observation, there was a fair amount of hair left but rather than stragglers, they were mainly of a peach fuzz/down nature. So I ended up going back in & shaving in the aftermath. If that’s what sensitive means, to leave me with a layer of whispees, then no thank you. I’ll take the extra tough womyn wax. The whole procedure took about 45 minutes. It’s wasn’t a dense situation. The waxer said when she looked over her prospect, “You’re about 3/4 weeks, yes?” At the end she congratulated me for being such a good patient-that was the exact word she used. But I didn’t get a lolly or a balloon. With tip I got a $101 bill.

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I Use Biotin

I decided to get a wax on a bitter cold January night. I went to Aroma Nail Salon on 13th St. & 1st Ave. in the east village. When it’s so cold even your goods are chilled & you need to go to the mattresses to warm them up. Besides, maybe I’d come out smelling like candy or something.

I hadn’t gone in awhile. Things were equivalent to a man growing a winter beard. There was trimming & tweezing in addition to the wax-a pot already waiting there. No fresh wax for this woman. It was also another fiasco of tweezers & scissors being simply tossed back into a very professional plastic cup. I really should up my health insurance if I’m going to subject myself like this. I will probably end up in the Mayo Clinic w/some newly discovered infection that can only grow on shoddy hole in the wall salon tools. 

The room itself was quite spacious. I’ve been in the boudoirs of 1 bedroom apartments smaller. And again I was greeted by a tween pink bedspread. Do the people making these realize there’s a whole market for them in the waxing industry? 

Interestingly enough about the room, it doubled as a storage unit for alcohol. I don’t know if it was a cottage industry or they were renting out their space for storage but I say make your $ where you can!

A pleasant thing about the experience was the room had heat lamps. So on such a blustery day, not only my gal was getting warmed up. It was your standard no gloves (I mean if we’re not even cleaning our utensils, then what are we clinging to?) Not much chit chat. Whenever the waxer is speaking through the door to a fellow employee I’m convinced they’re making fun of me. There was only really a comment on the fact I have strong hair. My response was I take biotin. 

It was fairly cheap in the end. I suppose that’s good. Know what your service is worth. Besides, I’ll need the money for what my insurance doesn’t cover. Full disappointment disclosure: you will not leave smelling like gumdrops. But I’m sure your aroma far exceeded that already ❤

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