Today, I made a bold fashion statement to the world. I was fearless, and unafraid to face the world with my fashion faux pas. Well, ok, maybe I was a little afraid.
What was this admirable feat, you ask? I left the house without painting my toenails.
Big deal! you scoff? Well, that just means you are probably a man. I live in the South. Southern women do not leave the house with flip-flops without painting their toenails some colorful shade of femininity. There are a few random women out there who I know do not partake of this ritual, but their lack of doing this is consistent, much like if you left the house without a colorful dot on your forehead and no one notices because you never leave the house with a dot. But if you always wore a dot, it would be noticed the one day you chose to not wear the dot. Sigh, I know, it’s confusing.
While I am happy to be a woman and do not make plans to contact Johns Hopkins for voluntary surgery, I do have some bones to pick with the powers that be who decide what is kosher for women to do and not do.
For example, let’s discuss the subject of shaving. Now, I am a shaver. I have been shaving since I was a wee teen and I shall continue to shave until I am too feeble to hold a razor. But my problem is, why exactly is it that I am not a female that looks well-groomed unless I have shaved every unfashionable hair on, let’s just say-my legs. Who out there decided that only the hairless leg was the way to be beautiful? Or let’s take the armpit-while I prefer to be hairless, it makes deodorant application so much nicer-why must the pit be bare to be acceptable?
I know in places like Europe this custom is not as wide spread. For all our Western Civilized ways, that particular practice is not preferred. It is more common to be au natural. Perhaps they’re onto something.
Men have it so much easier. Shut up, you do! Men only have to shave their faces. And even then they have the choice of having a beard and/or mustache or to not. Women do not have this luxury. I cannot wake up one day, look at myself in the mirror and decide, to heck with it, leg hair it is! Then I would only have the maintenance of grooming the leg hair. There could be a whole industry created to cater to the leg hair. Leg hair products that make the leg hair sleek and shiny, or give it volume for that poofy look. Little brushes to get the tangles out (it would never tangle!, you scoff? How would we know? WE’VE NEVER TRIED IT!). Tiny adornments to make our legs oh, so prettier. The sky’s the limit!
Although, now that I think of it, I’m not sure I want the maintenance of leg hair. My husband sports a beard which I absolutely love (bow chicka wow wow!). But I do not love his daily ritual of getting up, getting showered, standing in front of the mirror with a small razor-thingy and trimming any and all stray hairs he deems as unworthy. He will attempt to clean up, but will inevitably leave roughly 75% of his small, coarse hairs around the sink. I come behind and try to wipe up the sink, only succeeding in shoving the hairs into the cracks and crevices of the sink. We do this everyday. Shower, trim, wipe. Repeat process everyday until I go crazy.
Ladies (and metrosexual males and professional swimmers)! Let’s buck this ridiculous system and grow some hair! Who’s with me?!