I started getting laser hair removal in my 20s, and I’m in my 50s now, so I was definitely an early adopter. My bikini line was first, just the hair that peeked out of the edges of my panty line. I would get ingrowns, and I was always conscious of them because I thought they looked gross. With the laser, I didn’t have to worry.
Then I decided to get my upper thighs done. Then my legs and my underarms. The underarms were genius! I was hooked. It was kind of like an addiction. I got a little more taken off the edges of my bikini line. And then I got a V. And the V got narrower. I actually think the laser technician — her name was Olga — was part of what convinced me to do more. I never would have thought to take off hair where she was taking it off, but it was nothing to her.
In my 30s, Brazilian waxing became more of a thing, and a friend asked me if I knew what a full Brazilian entailed. I didn’t even know what she was talking about. Once she told me, I thought it sounded good. It seemed sexy and adventurous. So I got the under-carriage lasered too. That actually didn’t hurt much. But then the V became a little strip, and that front part, against the pubic bone, that really hurt. I just kept going. Now, all that’s left is a tiny, little square. It’s like a Charlie Chaplin mustache.
It’s not like I did it to be more attractive to others, or even myself. I never looked at the Charlie Chaplin and thought, Wow, this looks good. But there was something sexy about the smoothness. It was all so pasteurized and supple. And I was single and dating a lot, and it was always neat. I’m a Virgo, so I loved that.
It did become apparent that other people have pubic-hair preferences. I remember this one guy said something about how he liked a ’70s full bush. And when he got a chance to see what I was working with, it was clear he did not value what I had. I remember thinking, What if the person I end up with for forever hates this? I’m not going to get a merkin — though that would be hilarious, like Kate Winslet in The Reader. But I realized, Oh my God, this is permanent.
At some point, I looked in the mirror and regretted taking off most of my pubic hair. I’m not sure when exactly it happened. I got married in my 40s, and, to be honest, I never even asked my husband what he thought about it. The regret has nothing to do with him. And it’s not like I spend a lot of time looking at myself naked and worrying. But when I really think of what a beautiful woman looks like, she does have some hair covering her. It’s more womanly. Maybe with age I’m getting a little more traditional? But, honestly, that was probably always my beauty standard. I think I just got swept up in it all.
The other thing is: An aging puss should have hair on it. I’m not 60 yet, but I don’t think any 60-year-old should have a bald puss. And the truth is, the puss ages. It gets a little droopier. I don’t have children or anything, but things change. It’s not like hanging down, but your skin just isn’t as plump or firm. A little more hair would be nice. Not an unkempt bush, that’s not for me. But I wish I had just neatened things up a bit. Because there’s something too girlish about a bald look. And the idea that anybody might consider that attractive is gross to me now.
I know there’s a segment of the population that values hairy armpits or hairy legs, but neither of those will probably ever be my beauty standard. Pubic hair is more susceptible to the trend cycle. Or at least susceptible to changing beauty standards, whether it’s society’s or your own. So, when people ask, What would you tell your 25-year-old self? I would say don’t laser off almost all your pubic hair. Don’t do it, honey. Do the other stuff for sure — get your legs lasered, do your armpits. I’m bullish on that. It’ll make life easier and you won’t have to think about it. But keep some hair on your puss.