A Close Shave

There was a post on Facebook the other day about a little girl who noticed the lady in front of her in the checkout line had unshaved armpits and she asked her mother, in a whisper as loud as only little kids in public places can do, "Why does that lady have armpits like Daddy does?"

The mother, of course, was totally embarrassed but the free-spirited lady turned around and sweetly explained to the little girl that some people want to live naturally and that she had chosen to do away with shaving hair and other unnatural things foisted upon society by men. She was so nice about it and the mother was so impressed with her forward thinking that she took a picture of the unshorn lady with the little girl and posted it. It seemed like a reasonable explanation, I thought, and everybody should get to choose to live as they desire. Then I noticed something else about the picture. The lady was wearing lovely make-up. And she had perfectly tweezed eyebrows.

Oh, well, I guess you choose what you want to spend time on in the morning. It did remind me of a trip we took to Italy once when our guide was a beautiful young girl wearing a thin cotton dress that was light and airy for the summer day. Even I was impressed with how very well-endowed she was and every man on the tour bus gave her his full attention. Then she pointed out the Trevi Fountain. I mean, really pointed it out, her arm fully extended toward it. The hair that hung down from her armpits rivaled the locks on Rapunzel's head! The fountain never looked so beautiful. We couldn't take our eyes off it because nobody wanted to look back at the tour guide. I know, I know. It's the European way. Even so, although I don't remember anything else about that bus trip, I still remember her.

I like to think that I'm a fully liberated woman and the older I get the less I'm constrained by society's opinions, but I don't think I'll give up my disposable Bic razor just yet. Okay, sometimes I'm lazy but since I don't have Michelle-Obama-arms, I never wear sleeveless blouses, anyway. And I don't want to scare any little girls in the check-out line.