I must say that, ever since I took Women’s Studies in college, I’ve been a natural sort of woman. I assumed that men who wanted their partners to wax their pubic area were closet pedophiles. Pubic hair, I reasoned, was what made a woman a woman. Why get rid of it?
I now have my answer: because I’m a mom. I realize that may read like a non sequitur, so I’ll explain. Joy-filled and rewarding as it is, motherhood has presented an unfortunate side effect (okay, many side effects). It has obliterated my sexual identity. This former lace panty buying, push up bra wearing, sex goddess feeling youngster is now a frumpy feeling, cotton underwear wearing, station wagon driving mother of three-year-old. I’m also a full grown woman who happens to be in the middle of a six-month long dry spell. I need a sense of sexuality like yesterday, okay?
Enter: the bikini wax, one that will shape my wooly front side into the sensual picture of a martini glass. You might accuse me of looking for desire in all the wrong places, but something about the bikini wax has captured my sexual attention. A trip to a sex therapist or a week in Fiji might be more rational ways to reclaim my sexual identity, but the Martini seems like such an attractive quick fix.
Which brings me to the hair salon, where I am standing, feigning interest in the skin care products. I hear someone say my name. I look up and see Carmen, the Martini Glass pro. Everything about her—from her long eyelashes and full lips to her slender hips and high heeled boots—drips sensuality. She takes me to a private room.
“You want the Martini?”
“Yes,” I tell her.
She stands and stares. I’m supposed to be doing something.
“Uh, you’re going to have to tell me what to do. I’ve never gotten a bikini wax before.”
“Just take off your pants and get on the table.”
“Okay,” I say. I start to unbutton my pants, but I’m thinking that I could use a little privacy. Even at the gynecologist’s office, the nurse hands me a gown. The gynecologist is going to get up front and personal with me, but the gown gives me the illusion of not having someone staring closely at my nether regions.
