I was hanging with a girlfriend the other day at her pool, drinking wine and chatting her up about the latest People magazine. Wearing shorts, I kept looking down at my lily-white legs, dotted with brown age spots, reflecting—definitely not soaking UP—the sun.
Standing up, I took a long look at my knees. These are NOT the knees I once knew and loved so well. These are the knees of my mother . . .
Gravity is sucking the life and the perk out of my body, from my head all the way down to my saggy knees, and everything in between. I learned that one the hard way after my first (and only) Brazilian bikini wax.
A couple of years ago I decided that since my better half is a pilot, and was turning 50, a landing strip would be the new coolest thing between my Laura Ashley sheets. I had not done this before, so I headed for the local waxing place. The owner has a VW bug with a sticker wrap all over it that advertises her Brazilian business. Gotta love her guts. Also I figured you need to consult the experts.
We all know those waxing horror stories of pain and embarrassment. All true. And this girl who grew up in a house where body modesty was beaten in to her was extremely nervous and embarrassed. I also made sure my fine china was the cleanest it’s ever been. I think it was in shock. For 50 years it’s been just fine thank you but this was a special occasion.
After assessing my unruly lower hairdo, Brazilian Super Model had me lie back, relax and endure hot and painful ripping. Thank God she spoke Portuguese. I’m sure there were some choice words said about my cooter that I didn’t want to understand.
All finished, she had me sit up and stand in front of the mirror. Looking at the new style I was pleased. Until I noticed something hanging there. Something I had never seen before.
Something angry and exposed by the loss of its protective hairdo.
No longer lady bits, these were lady bags.
Brazilian Super Model seeing the shock on my face gently said, “Oh, that’s just the labia, it gets longer as you get older. Sometimes it stretches out a bit, especially if you’ve had children . . . ”
This was not what I was expecting as part of the birthday celebration. Now what?? I quickly hurried home and got on Google. God forbid anyone looks at my Internet history.
I quickly discovered what a merkin was and seriously considered the purchase. How will that look on my PayPal statement when I buy it on eBay???
I needed a taco toupee and quick. I Googled Gucci Coochie. Um no. I’ll just get him flat out snockered on scotch and no one will know any better.
Thankfully, my better half really couldn’t care less what was in the landing zone. Darkness does have its advantages.
Then again, there’s always eBay.