Today, as I sat in the sun in my capri-length linen pants – my white legs giving my PNW background away – I bent to lather my lizardy stems with a bit of moisture. As I did, I noticed the long hair that I was certain was so light as to be invisible. Wrong.
Earlier as I walked to my spot on the grass, I had felt what I believed to be a spider web in my path, and I was unintentionally destroying the arachnid’s trap. Turns out, it was actually my leg hair, lackadaisically blowing in the breeze. And while the offending hair was fairly sparse (another aging thing, my friends), I now saw that it was black – black as that of an Italian woman’s, and certainly not of one who is 99.7% Northern European, and was a towhead as a child. Awesome.
Now, I’d love to call this out as a winter coat thing, but the truth is? If nobody visits the house, why the hell am I tidying up the rec room every other day? Seems silly – and it’s a lot of extra work/razor burn. Seriously, It’s like 1985 up in my playhouse. (Totally unrelated, but seems like maybe it should be: When I was ten, our cat had babies inside the pool table in our rec room. Pussies and rec rooms? Can I get away with the pun?)
When I offered the argument about no visitors (sad face), a male friend of mine feigned disgust, saying it was about self-respect. But does that suggest that we didn’t have said self-respect before leg-shaving became a thing in the early 20th century? Yeah, I call bullshit.
I understood that self-respect was about personal pride and confidence, honor and dignity. With my legs unshaved, are these descriptions not applicable – even if they’re covered up and it’s implied they are smooth and hair-free? Huh. News to me.
So maybe it’s out of spite that I still haven’t shaved my legs – although as per usual, my underarms – and of course my toes – are squeaky clean of the objectionable fur. I’m sure I’ll take the time to do the annoying work of shaving eventually, but I’ll say it outright: It won’t be out of a lack of self-respect. And if I decided to never do anything about it at all, something tells me Ima be just fine.