Goodbye Bush, Hello Cactus

"Would somebody get this big walking carpet out of my way?"

In a few days, we will be in July.
In my native country, this is equal to the start of the "grandes vacances" also known as the biggest exodus known to Frenchkind.
In my adoptive country, this is equal to bipolar disorder weather, boozy barbeques and days of playing Spot The Email in the office.

And in my consciousness, it is equal to hairy nightmare.



Unfortunately, I was born a member of the hairy bipedal humanoid species known as unluckybitchwithhairylegsandcellulite as opposed to the smooth bipedal humanoid species known as luckybitchwithnohairandnocellulite.

And so, in my quest for the smoothest legs since Barbie's plastic legs, I have spent many years and many currencies trying to find a way to fight the fuzz.

But why this paranoia? After all we do say "Chassez le naturel, il revient au galop". If you try to kick Mother Nature's ass, she 'll kick you back twice. Which would explain the next day cactus legs.

But maybe this is why :


How can a modern woman not measure up to her ancestors....because that is what they all looked like, right? (*insert French arrogant sigh*).

Charles Darwin, it looks like you got it wrong mate. Judging by the amount of depillatory products coming out month after month, it seems that we women are the homo sapiens that need to evolve.

Unfortunately, despite my repeated efforts to turn into a normal woman, I keep failing and wake up with spontex sponge legs. And lets not talk about the Bermuda triangle area. Anyone need barbwire?

But the point is : I am not willing to cry a river (sorry Justin T.) nor be on all fours in front a complete stranger to conform to a photoshopped vision of the perfect woman. So screw the waxing. And the pubic induced contorsions.

This year, whoever will get into my heart, my bed and my lady triangle will have one chance out of 2 to experience stubbly love!