Friday, August 26, 2011


My Vagina Is Not French

This morning I went for my Brazilian waxing. It is still the summer here in Hong Kong, and I am often required to parade myself on super-yachts, in a series of increasingly revealing bikinis, to ensure repeat invitations. Nothing is more likely to get you back riding the Star Ferry with all the plebs, than unsightly pubic hairs escaping from the gusset.

I have found a useful waxing woman, who just about keeps the right side of bull dyke, and seems to do an efficient and reasonably painless job. There is everything to be proud about, for being a good minge waxer. So many people are shit at it.A particularly vicious, butcher beautician, left me bleeding from my perineum, something which I consider should only happen during childbirth, or after a especially vigorous night of passion. Inept waxing has made me sore for days. I have had an allergic reaction to the wax, which caused stinging and a great reluctance to sit, for about a week. Yes, the art of bikini waxing is one which, when mastered, should be an occasion of great pride for the practitioner.

If you are good at something, there is no need to try and add other strings to the bow. One of the skills I sometimes use in my job as a therapist, is hypnosis. I can hypnotise people, but I don't feel tempted to learn how to saw them in half as well. I'm a mental health therapist, not a fucking magician, even if we do use some of the same techniques. In the same way, I don't expect my waxing lady to lose focus on the business of removing hair from my fanny and start practising clairvoyance.

"Ah, it is you" She said "You want all the hair off, right? I remember you". I was a little insulted by this, as have always thought the "Hollywood" look to be one that women wheel out for men who are closet paedos. I don't like the thought of some bloke banging me and pretending I am ten. It's just a bit hideous, and I especially don't like being mistaken for one of those idiot, paedo-shagging whores.

The other sort of women who have Hollywoods, are those ones with the grey pubes,who don't want men to notice that they are old boilers. My pubes are still untroubled by grey, and in Hong Kong, blonde pubes are rather a curiosity. I am not going to lose that edge, thank you, and I hope I do not look old enough to "need a hollywood".

"No, not all the hair off. Just leave a little"

"Ah - you want landing strip, right? I remember now".

At this point I went slightly pale. "No. I want a small triangle. Natural looking shape, but just really tiny". Landing strips are for people who need to earn their living through their vaginas, or for unimaginative chavs who think marrying a retarded sportsman is the height of success.

I disrobed and she had a good old stare at my vulva and a prod around the houses with a glorified lolly stick.

"Are you French?" She asked "French women have very strong hair. You have very strong hair. Like French woman."

I just couldn't be less French if I tried. I am tall, I am very blonde. I don't eat snails or cream. I hate coffee. I have large hips and huge feet and broad shoulders, and avoid horizontal stripes and berets. The only reason she could have for calling me french, is that I have a French minge.

People have given me shit in the past, for showing insecurities about my vagina. Women are supposed to be proud of their clouts and and see them as powerful life giving forces, that have the potential to keep men in thrall. We are encouraged to go on that show "The Vagina Monologues", or to pay money to watch other women droning away about their clunges on it. We are expected to go to Anne Summers parties and wave enormous, cervix-eroding dildos about, whilst cackling like hags. Well, I say this to you, vagina-overconfident women. I am in solidarity with men, who have small penises. And with men who have penises with a bend in them, or uneven shaped balls, or a really gargantuan and misshapen head. I am not in solidarity with them because my pudenda is unsightly, it is not. I am being insecure about my vagina because somebody called it French.


The rapper Krayzee-Eye-Killer said the measure of a vagina was its taste. He claimed that Asian pussy had the best flavour, especially Thai pussy, but made no mention of the French. I've also heard good things about the fannies of red-haired Irish women. You should have told your waxing woman not to talk until she'd tasted it.
I once asked a master of wine to describe fanny in the style of those tasting notes you get on the back of wine bottles. He said it was smoky, and with a slight hint of leaves. I imagine he had a thing for tramps

I am sitting here cackling away like a demented thing...and then on to the comments, and got set off cackling again: 'smoky with a hint of leaves'

I am relatively new to the fanny wax. I had always gone with a bic (razor, not biro, you understand) instead. However, the problem with a bic is that your hairy bits start to spread all over your legs and soon our leg hair and your fudd hair are as one. It's not a good look.

Since I am possibly a lady of more mature years than yourself Noreen, I find that I am now going a little grey there. So am now reverting to the bic - biro, not razor - for a little colour ;-)

Ali x
I'm a mental health therapist, not a fucking magician

Were my universe not busy reeling and cowering from the implications of the first part of that sentence, which has all the plausible sanity of the contention that the Boston Strangler was an Avon lady, I might dredge up sufficient equilibrium to point out the plurality of pudenda or the unwarrantedly universal imputations resulting from the Noreen Comma in the sentence I am in solidarity with men, who have small penises.

Fortunately, it is, so I haven't.

Word Verification: tomsho, a Japanese subtitle on a Korean film.
Oh Philip! I am disappointed in you. Surely you know that singing every note out of tune requires perfect pitch?

You concentrate on correcting other people's grammar. I'll carry on hauling people out of abysses of fear and misery

I remember Billy Connelly mentioning that when his pubic hair started going grey, his genitals began looking a bit like Stuart Granger. I’m wondering now who the equivalent person would be for women when their muff hair starts turning salt and pepper:
I’m thinking Brian Blessed.
Why, Noreen, you sanctimonious great trollop. You cut me to the quick.

Word Verification: wrepa, something that goes on a parcel in Henley.
Lung, I love that concept. At the moment (hence the post) my bits are fairly bald - so I'm thinking more Pete Postlethwaite than BB. Or even Mr T, given the slightly odd shaped muffage she left me with.

Philip - good. You deserved it. Now go and write something about evil elves or David Cameron to cheer yourself up (see - I am good at my job)


For sure, I can appreciate your consideration for the public eye. Or, perhaps, the pubic eye? The one that belongs to anyone who seeks to find a flaw; or floss! In knowing circles, it damned well beats stringing the stuff from a spool to give the gums a go. Smartly, those course coils spring into action, no fuss, no muss. Instant dental care after a random chew upon a Snickers.
It's a damned good of you to reject coloring. Can't imagine why a woman would risk it! The pudendum, I mean. ---Tender is the night, one must remember. In my most humble opinion, that nasty business could render the prize you bear (bare?) rather tart. Taints the aftertaste of the Snickers, come to think of it.
Pragmatism, girl!
French vagina - that can only be a good thing. Carmine, smoky and capable of a come-hither moue. The opposite of Hebridean.
A small triangle is called a Sicilian. I had Chinese customers who insisted that pizza was French and you get that in triangular slices too.
Ah, vagina's eternal dilemma, to be with or without.
".....I am being insecure about my vagina because somebody called it French......"

Could be worse.
They might have called it German - uber orderly and masterly and all. Now that is something about which one should be insecure.
You sad woman.

Couldn't you have put a Health Warning at the start, so men of the male gender wouldn't be sent reeling away in shock.

Why on earth would you want to rip bits of hair out of your body using wax?

Is this the dark ages?
Why would you want to remove any hair at all?
If it offends the stuck-up bikini ogling bastards, then well done.

Speaking as someone who inadvertintly removed several square inches of hair (and accompanying skin) when some light-hearted dork decided to put super glue on my bicycle saddle, the lees hair removed by firce, the better.

This is the 21st century. What about laser depiliation?

Bonjour le vagin, comment allez-vous odorat et le goût?
vous devez arrêter de fumer ces Gauloise.

à bientôt
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