Note: Yesterday I was reading Dooce.com and she had a story about Vaggazzling. I’d just like to point out that when it comes to the freakish decoration of ladybits, I’m way ahead of the curve. This is a reprint of a piece I wrote for another blog in January, 2010. If you came across this because you thought today I’d talk about race or politics or something serious, sorry. I don’t do that often. My writing style is more suited to the discussion of jewel-encrusted genitalia.
You know what I think is the greatest thing about a blog? I can spend all day Googling terms like vajazzle, manscaping, vaginal Botox, and eyebrow extensions, and then I write about it. So it’s not like I’m some creepy woman sitting at a computer in her sweats with three half-drunk cups of coffee and a bag of Fritos littering her desk. Nope, it makes me A Writer. So, so cool. Why more people don’t blog, I’ll never know.
So, I’m vain. I really am. I caught sight of myself in a mirror not too long ago—I was bending over to pick something up—and could not figure out who that saggy woman staring back at me was. All of a sudden, the word “jowls” popped into my mind. It’s a sad, sad day when you realize something you’ve only associated with pork can now be associated with your face. Really, though, I do okay. My skin looks pretty good considering I’m part of the generation who slathered themselves with baby oil and iodine and baked in the sun for many years. Between sunscreen and quitting smoking, I am managing to stay reasonably soft and moist and young looking. It’s a miracle this is true because being vain is expensive.
I have dramatically reduced my beauty budget. Not only have I switched from Dior to Olay, but I’ve given up extras. Like any treatment with the word “wax” in it. In fact, I am so far from the days where I would spend a few hundred bucks on a day that included the grooming of, or removal of, body hair, that it is incomprehensible to me that someone would spend upwards of $100 to have her pubic hair ripped off and then have jewels and crystals glued on as a replacement. Ladies and gentlemen, the Vajazzle! What I cannot get someone to tell me is if you have to have a red warning sticker attached to your ass that says WARNING: CHOKING HAZARD if you get yourself Vajazzled!
I’m not saying one shouldn’t be groomed. What you want to do in your hamlet is up to you. You are the mayor of your hamlet. (About that: My friend has an issue with the use of the word “vagina” to mean bits that are not the vagina. She said, “If the whole area is a village, the vagina is only one building, and you shouldn’t use one building name when referring to a village. Ergo: Hamlet.”) As one of my dudes says, he manscapes because he doesn’t feel that his ladyfriends should have to navigate through Sherwood Forest to get things done. It’s a public service, really. Now, I did not ask him if he would spend $200 to have his junk waxed and have Swarovski crystals glued to his package, but I’m guessing he wouldn’t. And yes, I just wrote that sentence so I could use both junk and package in it.
It’s not just about taking hair off either. The same salon that offers the Vajazzle! also offers, for a mere $385, eyebrow extensions. You know where I’m going with this, right? I’m now wondering if you get both extended and Vajazzled! if you just move the hair from one place to another? I’d love a reason to legitimately call people assface. That would be cool. What? It would.
No, unlike using a thong to hold back my hair, I will not be your Vajazzle! guinea pig. Sorry, kids. I think it would make for strange panty lines, for one thing. Also? I really don’t want to have this conversation with my husband:
HIM: What the…?
ME: It was research.
HIM: For what? Are you writing about strippers?
ME: It’s called the Vajazzle!
HIM: They couldn’t get a patent on The Itchy? How much did this cost?
ME: $185. BUT I think it might be tax deductible.
HIM: Yeah, you have that conversation with the accountant.
ME: You don’t like it?
HIM: Like? Are you…? Okay, first, you know you’re going to be finding those crystals everywhere. I mean, EVERYWHERE. What if they transfer to me, huh? And second, what makes you think it’s a good idea to use glue anywhere near…JESUS CHRIST, WOMAN! $185?! You can make a payment on a Honda for that.
ME: But, but see? It’s the shape of a TARDIS. Because you like Dr. Who.
HIM: When was it you got hit on the head and how did I miss it?