Hair today, gone tomorrow

As I’ve gotten older, the hair on various parts of my body has started disappearing. I can thank menopause for that. It’s been a relief not to address this much anymore, but it wasn’t always that way when I was young.

As a teenager, I was upset at the appearance of these tiny hairs. I was a tomboy, so the appearance of my hair reminded me that I was female and obligated to keep these strands at bay.

I began shaving at the age of 13. Of course, I nicked myself with those sharp Gilette razor blades, grabbing one of those white lipstick-shaped sticks from my older sister to stop the bleeding.

Toilet paper decorated my shins until I could apply a band-aid. Hair soon started sprouting everywhere, like a small forest all over my body. It did help in the winter months since our house was always cold.

In my teens, my older sister told me to apply deodorant to avoid certain smells. After gym class, it was essential if I wanted to remain popular. Ban Roll-On was the brand of the moment. Soon, all sorts of hair-elimination strategies began. Beyond shaving, plucking and hair removal products were all the rage.

I remember putting wax on my friend’s mustache and keeping it on too long. I was supposed to rip it off after five seconds, but I misread the instructions and kept it on for five minutes. It was stuck to her upper lip, and I had to chip it off like an archeologist.

My more affluent friends used Nair, but I remember one of my pals got a nasty rash. She didn’t go on too many dates that month.

I had a brief reprieve from exfoliation during the 60s when I gleefully grew the hair out under my arms and on my legs. After that short stint as a Neanderthal, I was back to hair-begone.

In my 50s, I noticed things starting to slow down. I didn’t seem to have to shave as frequently. Did my hair disappear from overuse because I had too many partners? It seemed worn away like a divot on a fairway.

I was now starting to look like a 12-year-old.? Perhaps I was reliving my adolescence? What’s next? A training bra? I don’t mind having less hair. Now that I am down in Florida, it’s a relief not to have to shave as often. It’s hot enough during the summer without an added layer of insulation.

But I have thick Irish eyebrows like Andy Rooney. At least I don’t have to use eyebrow pencils like most of my friends.