Hair Removal

Why is it that in general, our society is so obsessed with hair removal? So many people go to such great lengths (see: brazilian waxing) to make sure that normal, naturally grown hair is removed from most parts of their bodies. I don't neccessarily have a problem with that, as I generally prefer when women shave their legs and armpits, at least.

So, if that's the case, why have I been so stubborn about "reclaiming my manliness" (I guess that's what you would call it) by not trimming up my chest hair? This is the point where, if you are one of my students, you might not want to read further, unless you want to see me differently next time we have class. But, none of it is overly embarrassing, and I think I might come to some sort of interesting point near the end.

I am not an exceptionally hairy guy on most parts of my body. Arms are pretty normal, maybe even sparser than most. Legs are pretty normal, except for the strange albino patch of skin and hair, about 4 square inches of surface area, just above my right foot, but that just makes the skin a little lighter, and the hair has no pigment. No one has ever noticed it unless I point it out. My neck's pretty normal, with a little bit of excess hair that needs to be shaved every couple of weeks, but it wouldn't make anybody puke if I just left it there. Butt, unfortunately, has a bit, but if you're more than 20 feet away, you won't really see it. And if you're up close enough to see it, you're probably wondering why you're in my presence when I'm naked.

But then there's my chest. Even though my brothers are probably hairier, one trims up on a regular basis, and the other has Chuck Norris style reddish hair, so it basically blends in with his skin, at least when he's tan (he's a lifeguard, so it happens). I, on the other hand, have dark hair and fairly white skin. Not pasty white, but white enough to see a pretty big contrast, unless I've been hanging out on the beach on a regular basis. I tan up pretty well. However, it' April, and it just snowed today, so I think it's safe to say that I'm about as white as I can be at the moment without bathing in whatever it is that Michael Jackson swims in.

So, back to the chest hair. It's longer than chest hair should be. No, I cannot braid it. No, I do not comb it. I suppose with the right product, I could part it down the middle or style it in a number of ways. But today, I said enough is enough, and I took the trimmer to it. It wasn't traumatic. I just did it, and now I look more like a pig than I did before. Before, I was some kind of jungle beast. Now, I'm just a guy who's a bit overweight, not quite toned. After I did it, I noticed that I have far more prowess when it comes to the Truffle Shuffle than I realized. Hair tends to hide some of the jiggle factor. Not to say I'm fat, but I've got a few more extra pounds than I realized.

So, what's the point of all this rambling? I've decided that hair removal is just like taking care of your yard. You trim sometimes if you want to, but some people simply prefer a more natural look. I think those who trim are in the majority, but some of them simply put up with the untrimminess, not taking a strong stance one way or another. Ultimately, this trimming session has motivated me to keep getting into the gym to shed off a few more pounds, which will make me healthier, thus happier. And I actually enjoy going to the gym, so I'm not performing some feat of masochistic vanity when I go.

And that's what it all boils down to, I guess. If your hair ain't hurtin' anybody, then let it flow freely or trim it up. For me, it seems that experimenting with depilatory techniques might make me healthier and more attractive, thus, probably, more happy. I always thought it would take hours to trim up, but it only took about 5 minutes, so I don't have that excuse anymore.

The thing that sucks is that my whole damn chest is itchy, but not as bad as I thought it would be. Would have been worse had I razored it off. Hmmm, so maybe this discomfort will detract a little from my happiness, but all in all, it might have been a good decision. This decision does, however, change my identity to a certain extent. No longer can my friends call it "The sweater" or "the natural cardigan". No longer, when I go swimming over at a buddy's house, will they be able to say, "Dude, it's frickin' 97 degrees. Why are you wearing a sweater?" Or, "Hey, man, do your girlfriends hands ever get tangled up in your Chestfro?" Because I was always comfortable with the good-natured ribbing and my own body, we'll all lose a few laughs. I guess we'll just have to wax (pun certainly intended) nostalgic about the good ol' hairy days.