Brazilian waxing is a hot topic. (Forgive us.) Some love it, some hate it, some swear by it. It’s always painful, and sometimes political. Two SDTC writers weigh in on what changed their minds about the Brazilian-one who became a convert, and one learned to embrace the bush.

Why I finally decided you can be a feminist and get a Brazilian Bikini Wax
First of all, a disclaimer: this is not a post about how a Brazilian bikini wax made me reclaim/rediscover/appreciate new depths of my sexuality. This is also not a post about how magically (HA! HA HA HA!) removing all my hair down there made me FINALLY ENJOY SEX. This is, however, a post about how I finally came around to the fact that I can be a feminist and do what I want with my pubic hair. Indulge me:

I hate pain. I do not handle it well. I do not tolerate discomfort gracefully. I am also a feminist, and very, very proud of being female. I love the myriad ways you can be feminine these days, I love the choice, I love the fight, I love the relentless discourse. The concept of being female is endlessly interesting to me. It is for both these reasons that I have always resisted the lure of the Brazilian.

Allow me to explain, thought I suspect many of you have experienced similar trains of thought. A Brazilian bikini wax meant, to me, ripping hair out of your vagina so you will be more sexually appealing. Since I’m straight, this meant you were ripping hair out of your vagina to be more appealing to a dude. Since I’m cynical, this meant you were ripping hair out our your vagina to be more appealing to a dude with creepy porn-star fantasies. Like so many things, it seemed too great a compromise, the very act of which demonstrated how far people are willing to push themselves into the zones of discomfort to fulfill some concept of unnatural sexual ideals. It was just another manifestation of the fact that so many woman change their bodies not to be healthy, not to feel strong or proud, not, in short, for themselves, but for someone else. Throw patchouli at me all you want (actually, please don’t), but there seemed something inherently defiant in our misogynistic world about refusing to endure the pain of the Brazilian. Call it a silent protest.

But here’s the thing: I really wanted one. Always, secretly. I don’t think having a Brazilian makes you look like an alien, or a child. I think it’s kind of hot, but mostly it seems really freaking convenient. No hair! So easy! So comfortable! So freeing! And I will confess: my Brazilian was all I’d dreamed and more.

My roommate finally pushed me over the edge, waxing (hee hee) poetic about her hairless habit. I sucked it up, clenched my teeth, went bare, and I’m never looking back. And here’s why: it has nothing to do with sex, or guys. It has everything to do with the fact that I like it. It feels more comfortable to me. The waxing part wasn’t fun, but it only hurts ’til it’s over. Having no hair down there has as little, or as much, to do with being a feminist as having it did. As I left the salon, I called my roommate, who serenaded me with a verse of ‘Easy like Sunday Mooooorning!” So wax on, or don’t-whatever makes YOU happy.

Why I Stopped Getting Brazilians and Learned to Love My Little Muff
I used to get Brazilians all the time. Mostly because past boyfriends thought it was hot and I was too much of a pussy (heh) and an insecure young woman to not want to please them. I’m glad to say that I’ve matured, and gained confidence when it comes to my body and my sex life.

I have been waxed all over, in high end salons and hole in the walls that had me wondering, “Should I really be naked and spreading my legs on this dirty table?” I have been on all fours, like a dog, so that they can easily rip from every crevice. I had one aesthetician examine me closely and comment that I had an identical vagina to some chick in Halifax. Apparently we both have a freckle in the same spot. Great!

I have done it on my own and nearly ripped half my labia off in the process. Then I stood in the mirror naked fumbling with oil, one leg up on the counter, tweezers, and a mirror, and OUCHED for two hours as my pubes got stuck and everything screwed up. It was a painful disaster.

I’m so over this. I’m over the pain, I’m over the cost and when I look at myself naked, I feel more sexy when I have a tidy V of hair. It sort of makes me feel primal….a little wild and animalistic. Or maybe just artsy, I dunno. I don’t have a problem with people who prefer Brazilians, I just personally think they aren’t as nice looking, aren’t natural and certainly aren’t worth the pain and price. If that’s what you want, great, but I do think many women feel pressured into doing it to please someone, my experience anyway. I felt like in order to be sexy I needed to look and act like a porn star. But that was then.

When I had no hair I constantly thought of that puberty chart they show you in grade seven, the metamorphosis from young flat chested girl to full grown woman. Now I want to look like the evolved woman, not the twelve year old.

In terms of the debate that people don’t like getting pubes in their mouth while giving oral sex, if you are doing it properly, this won’t happen. Even if it does, big deal. Some people say that a hairless vag is a cleaner one, I disagree. As someone who has given women head, bush and bare, it doesn’t affect the taste or smell. If you wash your body, this shouldn’t be an issue. What will affect the taste/smell is if you go to a bar and pee six times and then expect someone to go down on you without a wee rinse. Then you might very well taste and smell like urine. Your time of the month and diet will also affect the sharpness of your scent, but I digress. The point being, pubes are not the determining factor when it comes to your personal, shall we say, taste.

The only hair I’m concerned with now is if I have stray pubes sticking out of my bikini bottom. I make sure to keep those in check. Otherwise, I love my little muff.