Young Bossy never thought much about legs or hair or leg hair until a very catchy commercial began airing all over Bossy’s childhood:
Wearing what these days would pass for ski pants, four energetic girls high-kicked their legs across the television screen singing, “We wear short shorts!”
The commercial was for a hair removal system, which, according to the advertisement, consisted of a cream you spread on your legs like butter that dissolved pesky hair and facilitated the confluence of women who enjoyed dancing in the street.
Needless to say, young Bossy became curious about this product, which seemed infinitely easier than the alternative: a sharp blade applied at a mysterious angle, narrowly preventing death.
So young Bossy and a few of her friends who also didn’t need to shave experimented with this product. The results ranged from a burning sensation to spotty removal, and Bossy quickly ran out of the Monk’s patience required to apply a cream to what is best described as the acreage of her legs.
In Bossy’s limited childhood experience, removing the hairs on one’s leg with a cream was about as effective as baking a cake in an Easy Bake Oven, which is to say both results were underdone.
The next time shaving entered young Bossy’s sphere was in a conversation Bossy was having with her mother. “Why would you want to shave when you don’t need to?” Bossy’s mom pleaded, detailing Bossy’s age as well as the invisible blonde hairs on Bossy’s legs as proof. “But they’re not invisible,” Bossy argued. “They glisten in the sun.”
Bossy’s mom may or may not have acquiesced, but one thing she made very clear: one should never shave their leg above the knee. “Shaving the hair above the knee is unnecessary and causes the hair to grow in funny,” Bossy’s mom declared.
Enough said. Hair growing in funny is something most people fear the whole of their lives. “David Bowie shaved his eyebrows and they never grew back right,” was something beyond an urban legend in Bossy’s life — because it was legend in the suburbs too.
“If you shave a Golden Retriever, the regrowth will become an unmanageable mat of hell,” was another such thing. As if what was once a dog would become an unkempt bush:
threats lessons as Bossy’s guide, Bossy began shaving with razors. And her life passed uneventfully. The end.
Except it’s not quite the end. Because Bossy had a daughter of her own. And one day that daughter removed the pacifier from her lips and asked if she might begin shaving. Okay, maybe Bossy’s daughter wasn’t quite that young at the time, but like most milestones in parenting, it sure felt that way.
“Why would you want to shave when you don’t need to?” Bossy pleaded, detailing Bossy’s daughter’s age as well as the invisible black hairs on her legs as points of proof. “But they’re not invisible,” Bossy’s daughter argued. “They glisten in the sun.”
Like Bossy in her own childhood, Bossy’s daughter retreated into this parental argument for a small span of time until her peers could provide the necessary information and support.
So in effect, one day Bossy was taking a shower in the one bathroom shared by the entire family and it looked like this:
And the next day Bossy was taking a shower in the one bathroom shared by the entire family and it looked like this:
It was a new thing. A new thing come to live in Bossy’s family shower, and it went by the name of razor. But you can call it Bossy’s daughter’s razor for short. And there it was hanging on the shower wall.
And that’s the conversation that Bossy and her daughter had about the introduction of shaving into her daughter’s life, which is to say: no conversation.
Bossy and her daughter have made up for that lack of conversation since, though, in their incessant review of this and that razor, weighing things like effectiveness and convenience.
Often razors confuse Bossy and her daughter. Often the razors feel cheap like disposables but they carry a heftier price tag and encourage the purchase of replacement blades. Bossy and her daughter can never remember what they’re supposed to buy when they’re in the drugstore and so have become fans of the true disposable razor.
Enter the Venus Embrace and Passionista Fruit Satin Care. As something of a razor expert by virtue of the fact Bossy has been shaving for a bazillion years, Bossy agreed to try out these two products and proffer her opinion. Well two weeks have passed, and Bossy is here to offer the following very thorough and scientific review: you use them, it removes hair. And in a less punishing, smooth shave way
Enter you. The Venus Embrace would like to give one lucky Bossy reader a $50 Visa gift card for answering one simple prompt: Share a tip for tackling tough “firsts” conversations with your kids.
Good luck Bossy readers!
No duplicate comments. You may receive (2) total entries by selecting from the following entry methods:
a) Leave a comment in response to the sweepstakes prompt on this post
b) Tweet about this promotion and leave the URL to that tweet in a comment on this post
c) Blog about this promotion and leave the URL to that post in a comment on this post
d) For those with no Twitter or blog, read the official rules to learn about an alternate form of entry.
This giveaway is open to US Residents age 18 or older. Winners will be selected via random draw, and will be notified by e-mail. You have 72 hours to get back to me, otherwise a new winner will be selected.
The Official Rules are available here.
This sweepstakes runs from 5/21 – 6/30.
Be sure to visit the Venus Brand feature page on BlogHer.com where you can read other bloggers’ reviews and find more chances to win! If you have a first-time shaver in your home, you should check out some of these great tips from Venus Embrace!