Gigi here! Tommy Townsend became my first love when we were eight years old. I will admit that there were others before him, like Gino, Robert, and Joey, who competed daily to spend their own milk money in order to purchase cartons of orange drink, potato chips, and long pretzel sticks for me at recess. The others, I am ashamed to admit, I used for treats. But Tommy was “the one.”
Our relationship started in the typical way. Always seated behind me in alphabetical order, he would pull my hair, write with his finger on my back (that was daring and we were never caught), and hide my red rubber snow boots. That tickled me pink and outside waiting for the bus I began to kick him–he came back for more. I knew he was committed to me in the summer between third and fourth grades, as he circled my house at least five times daily and would call, “Sommers! Looking for Sommers! Are you in there?” I was generally in the backyard with a group of girls and highly flattered. He called for me in front of his buddies. We were a younger version of Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers destined to be together.
How to look better for Tommy? Media-driven even during those tender years, I noted that women shaved. Aha, that was it! Smooth, silken legs instead of the ultra-fine, blond strands growing on mine, would enhance my attractiveness and help me to look older, perhaps as old as a (gasp!) sixth-grade girl. So I took my father’s “safety” razor, a misnomer, and cut patterns of nicks into my legs that Picasso would have applauded. What happened to the silky, alabaster skin that the women on commercials showed? My father began to complain that there was something wrong with the blades he was buying, and I decided that this was best hidden from my parents. They couldn’t bear to see us with injuries. And thus I took to wearing knee socks in the ninety-five degree heat, from lightweight to cable knit wool. That didn’t trouble them. I was raised by a wonderful couple who spent their lives trying to keep my sister and me knowing we were loved, eating healthily, and warm, so ridiculously warm that we would never become ill.
Tommy was replaced throughout the years, but my quest for completely hair-free Betty Gable gams remains an obsession to this day. I shave my legs daily in the shower and am growing weary of my flamingo position. At my age, it’s pretty hard to juggle soaps, sugar scrubs, shampoos and conditioners and a razor. Why not wax? The tubs of wax repulsed me, but I was drawn to Nads Body Wax Strips. The concept is brilliant.
At first I thought this was the consummate answer. Nads offers two packets of desensitizing wipes, a type of topical anesthetic with which to prepare your skin to reduce any pain. Also included are two packets of smoothing and finishing towelettes to remove left-over wax. The strips are virtually mess-proof. Twenty-four strips are combined in two with a comfortable cloth-like covering. You simply clean your skin, use the desensitizing wipes, and warm the packet of wax strips by simply rubbing it between your hands to make it more malleable and easy to apply.
Slowly open the joined cloths and press the waxed sides firmly in the direction of hair growth. Smooth the pad securely until the area desired is entirely covered, moving in the direction that hair grows. Part of the beauty of Nad’s is that these strips can be cut for use on one’s upper lip, bikini area, or arms. Once it seems joined to you, lift it for hair removal. There is enough wax to apply to other areas (I like the way Nads conserves the product). There is some “ouch” factor, but not nearly as much as I’ve experienced with other brands. The formula contains natural beeswax and the scent is pleasantly subtle. The results? Only half of the hair which I permitted to grow to use these was removed. A second and/or third use would come closer to meeting my expectations.
I did find myself shocked at the small smoothing and finishing wipe. I was human fly paper, a catch-all for lint, hair, dust mites, you name it. A wipe would not remove the excess. I found myself soaping a washcloth several times until all of the wax was removed. Winnie the Pooh would have a field day with this, but it took longer than shaving and wasn’t nearly as effective. The concept is one which is admirable, but Nads needs to include more industrial-sized cloths to clean up and additional adhesive to make me give up my razor.
I’ve heard the years have not been kind to my first love. Goodbye Tommy, goodbye Nads until you tweak this product.
What drugstore hair remover do you use?