Saturday, March 18, 2006

Hair Suit

I have always loved that the word 'hirsute' sounds kinda like 'hair suit'.

I am not a very hairy person, but I sure do hate shaving. In a seeming departure from my status as a sensible, make-up free, crunch granola individual, I have just embarked on a foray into the world of permanent laser hair removal.

And it's fascinating.

My friend got her moustache zapped, her bikini area done, and permanently divided her eyebrow(s) into two units, recently. When she told me about it, I was intrigued. I'm not the sort of person that goes in for cosmetic adjustments, usually, but if I never had to shave parts of my body ever again?? "Tell me more!"

I stopped at the clinic the other day and got the verbal spiel and the price list. Yesterday, I went for my first treatment.

Before your first treatment, you sit in a room with other new clients and the 'doctor' (a real doctor?). The doctor was a very nice woman who told us about the realities of what we can expect from the treatment ("If you need a number to cling to," she said, "six treatments will get rid of 90% of the hair in an area."), government regulations on the process and on the laser equipment, and information about the success rate for different skin types. While I listened - and without seeming to stare - I spent my time trying to figure out if she had done hair removal on her arms or not; they looked unusually smooth to me.

Then I spent 1.5 hours lying on a table, while someone burned off all the hairs on my legs from the knee down. Yee-ouch! If I ever do that again, I may opt for the topical anesthesia, although it was interesting to see if I could do it without or not.

And yes, it did in fact smell a bit like a singed chicken in that room.


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