Monday, February 2, 2009

I still hate hippies, though.

I just got finished shaving my legs for the first time since January 1st. Although the primary reason I abstained for so long was being too lazy and poor to go out and buy new Intuition razors, I like to believe that I did it for greater reasons.
I went to an all-girls high school and a bunch of us would often stop shaving our legs during the winter. I mean, shorts and skirt weather was months away and who were we trying to impress anyway? Mr. Gruber, our mustachioed English teacher? Though Mr. Gruber introduced me to Shakespeare and Faulkner, trust me, I wasn't trying to impress him. The signal that it was time to shave came when our leg hair would get so long it'd snag in our tights, making it feel like we were pulling off band-aids all over our legs.
This not shaving thing is certainly, for me, a hold-over from this high school bonding, but even more it's a little of a throw back to those heady middle school days when I first started shaving. And I would shave all the time. In the shower, sure, but also when I was just sitting on the toilet. I'd just swing my leg out and rest it on the shower ledge across from me and lather up. During those first few month of shaving, the shaving felt so good. Maybe not the shaving itself, but the feeling of anything on my legs after shaving. The bed sheets, my jeans, the cat, the wind. It's because the sensation of having something directly against the skin of your legs was so new. I noticed that when I shave my legs to constant smoothness, that beautiful feeling is gone. It doesn't feel smooth and soft, it just feels like leg. You've got to build up a sweater of hair for a month or two in order to get that luxurious feeling back.
Now hold on while I go on a rant. Why am I shaving my legs anyway? Stupid old boys don't have to shave their legs, although I'm sure if they felt how nice having your whole leg bare felt, they'd do it too. It's the patriarchy, for goodness sake, trying to elbow its way into my most private of affairs! And everyone says that legs look better shaved. We have to look at dudes' legs all hair-ridden. Who am I trying to impress, anyway? If a guy is really that into me, he'd better get used to the fact that November through April, my legs will be smooth sporadically at best. Having hair on my legs makes me want to go all Maureen and Joanne on the world. Take me or leave me, suckers! Hairy legs and all.