And I’m not talking about what you think I’m talking about. Wait. What do you think I’m talking about?
This isn’t about childbirth, sex (I lie, it’s always about sex) or menses. Menses- did I just remind you of your 8th grade health teacher?
This is about fancy vaginas. Blinged, groomed vaginas. Or hoohas. Or ladies’ gardens. There’s your every day ho-hum Brazilian wax, Nair- if you don’t mind the vapors, hedge trimmers, and also vagina brightening. Yes- vagina brightening. Could we have a ‘hell no’? Thank you.
The Bearded Iris is kind of an expert in the ladies hygiene department. She’s a vagina do-it-herselfer. No fancy Brazilians for this lady, just get out the super industrialized afro Nair and she goes to town in her own bathroom. Door locked of course to protect from the littles walking in and being scarred for life. I often read her blog for such tips- you should too.
There’s so much out there about vaginas. Okay- pause- sorry Lisa Brown, I’m just going to call it a hoo-ha. Call me juvenile, it’s not like I’m on the congressional floor.
An ad in India is getting criticism for implying that a woman’s genitals are prettier if they are brighter. I think they’re pretty if they’re just clean.
We can get our anuses bleached and now our vaginas brightened. Isn’t that great ladies? Isn’t that just what you always wished for? My whole private area is ready for it’s closeup like Gloria Swanson in a fancy turban.
I still remember those ads when I was a kid of the Massengill mom and daughter walking on the beach. ‘Sometimes I don’t feel fresh, down there, mom, what do I do?” My answer would be- go take a shower.
But you know it’s more fun selling us stuff that makes us feel like we’re doing our part. Like we’re creating a pH balanced wonderland.
Thanks to Jennifer Love Hewitt for her book on how to snag a man with a blinged out snatch. Or something like that. It’s not the exact title but you get the idea. How’s that working out for you Jenny Love? What engagement are you on? Such a pretty girl, she’s doesn’t need to hot glue sequins to her labia.
We all know what childbirth can do to the nether regions. It makes it look like a gordita.
I’ve asked my husband if he would like anything different about my parts. Does my labia hang down too low? Is my garden hair bothering him? He’s never really answered me. It’s not like he’s groomed like a Chippendales dancer himself. Does it really matter? I mean, he just wants to do me, call it good and have a beer, right? Now he has to worry about, not just when I ask him, ‘do these jeans push up my muffin top?’, but ‘does this shower gel make my hoo-ha glow?’
Don’t even talk to me about vaginal rejuvination surgery. OH PLEASE! Because the episiotomy and stitches weren’t fun enough!
Fuck you vag rejuvenation inventor! I’m just worried about not passing gas during foreplay, now I have to worry if my vag is rejuvenated enough to charm my hubs.
Well guess what? I can charm my McSweetie with my saggy boobies. I flash him on his way out the door for work. I pretend he’s thrown some beads at me and I lift up my t-shirt. Puts a smile on his face before his long commute to work.
So there you go. Ladies- don’t let media and marketing make you feel like your hoo-ha isn’t all that. Because guess, what? It’s all that and then some. Like Julia Roberts said in Eat, Pray, Love– our guys think they’ve won the lottery when they go to bed with us.
My hoo-ha is a lottery of sorts. McSweetie hopes he gets lucky.