It was an occasion to celebrate! Two of my closest friends were each celebrating unique occasion to each of their lives. I was elated for them both, and since I love being with any of my friends, the celebratory activities were put into play: Meet at one friends home downtown, clink glasses with said friends with champagne, decadently dine on caviar, then off to a nice local restaurant, arm in arm, skirts aflair, for a splendid time.
So me being the one who generally takes the longest, (you have friends like that I’m sure, be kind to them, they are slow but have big hearts), I thought I’d wait just a bit longer and instead of shaving for the occasion I’d use…
Nair.
“It’s the hair; the hair is ALWAYS the problem with us.” Those words, spoken by one of the aforementioned friends portended only doom - little did I know.
So, examining my body, which vaguely resembles a Beluga whale, I thought, “hey skip the shavin’, I’m Nairin’, I’ll feel better I’m sure”. And so on it went.
Have you ever used Nair? Have you ever smelled it? The bottle is pretty. The smell is like something from a glue factory. It just smells like it’s bad for you, that it could hurt badly you if misused. More on that point; keep reading.
And the consistency. Never a gloppier substance has come from the beauty labs of America. On my bod it went, pink color harshly contrasting with my pasty white Irish skin. One false move by any of my limbs never mind my torso and *splat* some would whip onto the wall, the shower curtain or the floor. Then try and clean it! One move to clean leads to a veritable landslide of the gooey substance as it travels down your body. Your only option to while the time away while Nair does it’s dirty business?
Wait.
Wait and just breath the heavy fumes of that permeate your skin, your walls, your cat (should your cat be unlucky enough to be in the bathroom with you during this drama).
So one little factoid on the directions says DO NOT leave on your body beyond the specified time. Despite Nair smelling like the insides of buildings where you bring hobbled horses for a sort of last rights, I thought, “how can this be right I mean, I’m a genetic male, thick skin and all. I may be transgender but hey, this stuff can’t be THAT bad really can it? I’ll leave it on for 3x the time so I’m good and de-haired. I’m sure I’ll feel better.”
“It’s the hair; the hair is ALWAYS the problem with us”. My friends words echoed in my mind. Especially AFTER I took the Nair off.
One little side effect of leaving it on too long is simply that your skin burns. Mine was tingling all over by the time I took it off. You’d think I would have determined I was having a problem when that sensation appeared! Off the Nair went and I’ll be damned if my skin wasn’t RED and growing red bumps and a damn RASH. That’s right readers, the femme fatale, the adopted soccer mom of the trans-community was finding herself turning into a red pimpled, red rashed, Beluga sized MESS. Oh, rubbing my skin with a towel to try desperately to remove this only aggravated my situation.
Needless to say my wearing that low cut cute tank top and my pearls while celebrating was not going to work! Too bad it hadn’t been Winter, I look fetching in a turtle neck.
Moral of story? Those directions on Nair really ARE there for a good reason!
Bonus Moral? Never use an epilator on your face! It’s only for your arms or legs!
(photo of razor courtesy of John Wardell (Netinho’s) Photos, used under Creative Commons License)
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