Since we all know how hip and happening I am, as evidenced by the fact that all the cool kids refer to themselves as ‘hip’ and ‘happening,’ I would like to bring you news of the latest trend that makes me question, well, everything.
Yes, I’m talking about dyed armpit hair. Apparently, women are letting their hair grow and then dying it bright colors.
True to my eastern European ancestry, I am a very hairy person. But for regular grooming, I would have what might more accurately be referred to as a ‘pelt,’ and it is a lot of work to keep it in check. I’m not as consistent with it in the winter, so when winter begins to transition into spring, I have to bring out the weed whacker and a machete.
Because she isn’t old enough for real employment, I have started paying my daughter to tame my Russian-Dicator-esque eyebrows. I guess she hadn’t looked closely at my face that often (I mean, what 12 year old does look closely at her mother’s face?) but she not only started laughing at our first session, but had to call her brother in to witness the trainwreck she saw. “Look at this!” she said, jabbing a poky fingernail into my forehead. “They go all the way up here.” I saw her finger coming at my eye and closed it quickly. “And look at this!” she said, “They go all the way down her eyelid!”
I felt my son’s breath join my daughter’s on my face as I kept my eyes closed, lying back on the recliner chair, still desperately trying to hold on to the fantasy that my daughter was still young and innocent and we were playing ‘spa’ for fun. They both dug their elbows into my chest and stomach to steady themselves, muscling each other out of the way for a closer look.
My son tapped the side of my nose. “Mom,” he said. “You have eyebrows growing all the way to the side of your nose.”
All of which is a long-winded example of how hairy I am to bring us to this point: if I let my armpit hair grow, it would look like I were breeding Tribbles underneath each arm. The hair, thick and wiry, would grow from mid-tricep on one end to halfway down my ribcage on the other.
That’s a lot of dye, and a whole other category of maintenance to add to the list. Thank you, but no.
Plus, armpits are generally gross. I mean, we can’t even come up with a better word than armpit. Armpits are, so to speak, the armpits of the body. The stinky, smelly, sweaty parts. There’s a whole aisle in the drug store dedicated simply to making the stink go away. Extra hair in there only traps the stink and sweat, and it is impossible to make something that stays covered and moist and rubs up against itself all day look neat. It would be tangled and matted. Why would anyone want to neon that up to highlight it? They’d look like they were giving birth to Troll dolls under their arms.
I mean, I’m a live and let live kind of girl, and if you want to truck with such foolishness, that’s your business. Teal colored armpit tresses should not be forbidden or a violation of anyone’s dress code. If you want to look ridiculous, that’s your business and I’m not here to stop you.
Unless you’re my daughter. Got that, baby girl?
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Lori B. Duff is an award-winning author who practices law on the side. Her latest book, “If You Did What I Asked in the First Place” was awarded the Gold Medal for humor in the Foreword INDIES awards in 2019. You can follow her on Twitter at @LoriBDuff and on Facebook. For more blogs written by Lori, click here. For more information about Lori in general, click here. If you want Lori to do your writing for you, click here. If you want Lori to help you market your book, click here.