I’m sharing this as a service to humanity. No matter how desperate you get just don’t.
Home Warm Wax: A scathing review,(but not for the reasons you would think).
For those as bored and hairy as I am.
Disclaimer, I’m not normally this weird but apparently it becomes acceptable during social restrictive measures,with nothing else to do on a Friday night, to write about the horrendous things we do to ourselves.
I’m not a virgin to waxing so it wasn’t a frightening prospect. The wax itself smelled good enough; kind of like pine sap mixed with hope. I made Jon smell it and he drifted into a pleasant haze, thinking dreamily about the days when we would camp without children (and by camp, I mean sit in a trailer in Wales and drink with friends).
I warmed it up as instructed and apart from scalding my skin on the first go, which wasn’t ideal, I was smugly thinking I was a pro already.
And that’s because I hadn’t started yet.
The pain was searing, but tolerable. My comparison is always to either gallstones or a human head exiting my body. I’m not going to say I have a high pain threshold, because I’m not sure what that means (and likely I don’t), but it wasn’t too bad. It was almost satisfying removing layers of quarantine growth. Almost cathartic. But that was only the first strip.
What they don’t tell you on the box, is that likely you are actually using real tree sap, and if you haven’t taken two years of leg waxing theory and application technique, then you are going to make an absolute fucking mess.
No biggie I thought, I’ll just do it and then clean it up. Except half way through the wax hardened and I had to heat it again. No biggie, I’ll just tip toe to the microwave, manoeuvring on the outsides of my feet only as there was a little stuck to the bottom of my foot. And by little, I mean a huge frigging gob that is now on every second foot of the apartment.
And it won’t come off.
Which would be fine, if I didn’t ever want to travel through the apartment again, or if we didn’t have two very hairy cats currently shedding.
My left leg then hurt a lot more than my right. Perhaps I had lost the ability to cope by that point, or perhaps it’s because two of my fingers literally glued together while doing my left leg and I panicked wondering what I would tell my colleagues in emerg when I showed up with my lobster claw of a hand.
Also it didn’t really work. For every 10 leg hairs it pulled out, it left two. So now my legs look like my father’s head and I’m going to have to shave them anyway. No biggie.
Except it was a biggie because my legs stuck together in the shower, which was unpleasant to resolve. The razor also wouldn’t work through the clumps of wax stuck to my legs.
So now I’m laying in bed, my legs are stuck to the sheets despite showering, and I have wax all over the bathroom which is making my anxious feelings about cleanliness boil over.
So in summary you need to either shave or stay hairy. Two clear choices.
Now in all seriousness how do I get the wax off my counter? Tips wanted. As soon as possible.