Posted by: Hannah | 06/28/2010

like macbeth’s three witches

I haven’t quite hit the level of Annie Jones yet, but as I age, I am seeing more hairs on my chinny-chin-chin.  And it bothers me.

It’s just one more sign of aging, but it’s the one that I am most self-conscious about.  Cottage cheese cellulite, eh.  I can’t see that.  It’s behind me.  Saggy boobs?  Well, when you are an “H” cup, they start sagging when you’re still in high school, so I’m used to that.  Grey hair?  Fixable.  And I’m lucky anyway, my grey hairs are actually white, and will look totally classy some day.

But the chin hair.  Blergh.

I’ve always had more facial hair than I’d like.  I see fair-skinned girls of Gaelic or Celtic descent, with their creamy skin and adorable freckles and completely hairless bodies, and I yearn.  I remember my dad making fun of my moustache once.  In the 4th grade a girl laughed at my “caterpillar eyebrows”.  I use Nair and Neet, I’ve tried waxing and threading, and I have tweezers scattered strategically throughout the house.

I also keep a pair on my dashboard in my minivan.  I find if I’m driving on a sunny day, and I have the visor down, I can see every single individual coarse dark hair in the little visor mirror, and I get so distracted by them I have to pluck at red lights.

(That last sentence sounded nuts, even to me.  But it’s true.  I also comb my fingers through my hair when I’m nervous, and pluck out any that feel “weird”.  Please tell me I’m not the only one who does that).

My problem is as I get older, I seem to be sprouting more hairs.  MORE.  I’ve got this one little random patch on my left cheek.  My eyebrows will insist on meeting in the middle, despite my best efforts.  Shaving my legs takes a long time, and I have to do it more often than I used to.

I don’t even know where this obsession with wanting to be as hairless as a naked mole rat comes from.  My mom was not hung up on it.  (In fact she wouldn’t let me shave my legs until grade eight.  I got roared at every single gym class for years because I wore sweatpants instead of the requisite shorts).  Intellectually I know that this smooth skin thing is a construct, it’s not natural, it’s social pressure and I’m probably being oppressed right now just for thinking about it.  I don’t worry about it on other people.  I wonder sometimes if it’s about the hair, or if it’s just a convenient and socially-acceptable way to indulge in some mild OCD behaviours.

In the meantime though, I wish someone – anyone! – would invent a depilatory body wash.



  1. A depilatory body wash is a fine idea. So long as you didn’t accidentally mistake it for conditioner. What is it with aging – the whole mustache thing. I’ve been waxing for years and I keep waiting for the day that it “doesn’t grow back” as everyone assures me.

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