This afternoon, when I had nothing more than season one of
GIRLS to consume, I whipped out my trusty epilator (a device so obviously
designed by a man and tested by compliant women) and gave it a go. Like every
other time I have left it too long, I was thankful for the atrocious amount of
n
oise the small thing can make as it masked
almost all of my swearing, but it also gets me thinking.
Too often in the past I associated smooth hair free legs with
boys. I remember a conversation I had with a girlfriend where we noticed that
too familiar collation with the nights we epilated and the nights we pulled. She
having a fun adventure one night, and I the next because we had been sharing a
bathroom and couldn’t both have been silky smooth at the same time. We worked
out (as many women before us have) that by not shaving our legs we gave ourselves
a strange but legitimate reason not to go home with a fella – the embarrassment
for one is a certain way that can get me
running for the razor ( I have had a charming
man announce loudly for those around him to “beware the cactus” that is still
leaving scars) But also, in a backwards kind of way, having a little touch of
sexy beauty can give you that added need of confidence that can really change how
one handles a situation.
This also got me thinking, and my chaotic stream of
consciousness followed thus: Why should I let a boy be the reason that I want
to shave or epilate my legs? Who cares if no one else is going to come near enough
to feel just how silky smooth my legs are now? Why should it be strange that I want
to feel comfortable in my own body and go through self-inflicted pain to get
there? Why does the effort I put into the way I look have to be solely for the benefit
of the people around me? Why can’t I try to look pretty purely for the sake of not
wanting to look ugly? Why feel like I need a reason to do this?
I could very easily wait around for someone to be my reason to shave my legs – be it a
night out with my girls or an unusually strong desire to find a tall dark
handsome stranger but I might accumulate a pair of legs similar to my father. Why
can’t I be my own reason? Why am I not allowed to be my own motivation for
getting out of the house and embracing the influence that I have on my own
life? Am I not reason enough?
Embracing ones appearance is an important part of growing up.
So much time and energy is put into the way other people see us but I think it is
invested for the wrong reason. The days that I curl my hair or a splash of my favourite
lipstick or have endured all the pain with an epilation session, I feel like a
can conquer anything. So watch out world, this week Katie comes at you with
socially acceptable legs - I might accidently change everything.
