KARACHI: First of all, we completely support having facial and body hair. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having it. And f*** patriarchy for setting these beauty standards where women are supposed to be extraterrestrial creatures who don’t fart, burp or grow hair. But it is what it is. And more often than not, we give into these standards. For ourselves though, not for anyone else. Because if we have to go through the pain that is waxing, you bet your ass we’re going to enjoy every passing minute of it by putting on every last piece of revealing clothes we own.
However, there’s still no denying that the entire experience of waxing is infused with anxiety and anger. These are the stages:
Stage one: The phone call
It’s been a month since your last session. There’s a lot of activity happening around your body. You’ve been ignoring it for quite a while now. But now you have to go to an event and you want to wear an off-shoulder top. SHIT. Now you gotta make that phone call booking yourself an appointment or asking the waxing lady to come over to your house. You pick up the phone, secretly hoping she doesn’t pick up because of the anxiety and the pain that you know is about to follow.
Stage two: The change in heart
You’re proud of yourself for making the phone call and being brave through it. But now it’s time for your appointment. Literally 15 minutes to go. And bam. You realise you can’t deal with another session. You can’t and won’t go through it. Because patriarchy made you do it and you gave in to society’s expectations. So you’re going to fix it. You’ll wear something else, maybe full sleeves. Or screw it. You’ll wear the off-shoulder and whoever has an issue with your hair can go fuck themselves. You call back but they say your appointment can’t be cancelled. And now you can’t breathe.
Stage three: The drive/the wait
You tell yourself you can do it. You’ve done it before. BUT WHY IS IT STILL SO HARD?
Stage four: The prep
You’re in your robe waiting for your tormentor to enter. It’s not her fault, you think. She’s just doing her job. You start questioning why it’s so tough to be a girl.
Stage five: The first pull
FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK. There goes my hair. It protected me from all the bad things in the world. It was a part of me. Now I am incomplete.
Stage six: The change of heart – again
You suddenly get a thought. What’s the need of getting a full body wax? You can just get the arms and legs. Maine konsi modelling karni hai, you think.
Stage seven: The afterglow
You get done with your session. You’re ready for the world.
As you’re about to leave, your tormentor makes this comment: iss baar growth bohat ziada thi. But this time you don’t get angry. You’re calm and relaxed or rather, waxed. And you just have one thing to say to her: