Last night I found myself going through a whole new experience. There I was lying on this strange bed, listening to soothing music playing...... whilst being covered in hot wax and having hair ripped off my legs.
It was my first visit to the waxing studio - and the jury is out as to whether it will be my last. It was all very odd.
I booked my appointment about a month ago thinking it would be a good thing to do in preparation for my holiday. Not quite sure why this holiday merits tidier legs but there you are. I'm not one for half measures - so it was full leg and bikini wax for me! I was told not to shave from then on so that I achieved an adequate length for removing. Well frankly if I had left them to grow from then to yesterday I would have had more hair on my legs than on my head. So I did cheat a bit.
On arrival at the torture chamber - I mean beauty parlour - my legs were inspected for signs of adequate growth. Unfortunately they passed, so there was no excuse to back out. Next thing I know I'm lying there with boiling (I am not exaggerating here) wax being applied. I thought that bit was bad until the strips were applied to pull it off - hair, skin and all it seemed. And so we went on. Having a perfectly normal conversation about life in general - whilst lying there with some-one inflicting the kind of pain that could send you down for GBH.
Then comes the bikini bit. I would have gladly passed at this point - but that didn't seem to be an option. Instead I was asked how high up I wanted to go. Not sure what the right answer to that one was.
Finally it was over and I staggered home, legs red and angry - hot wax applied on one of the hottest days of the year. Only one question to ask myself - why did I do that.
p.s. bought pair of shorts for my holiday from well known department store - they make me look like an extra from "It ain't half hot mum" - is it me or have I missed this look as a new fashion trend.