A continuation of “Do Not Drink and Shop”, including a review of the “Smooth Silky Leg” product:

I am so excited with my new little purchase, that the minute we walk into the house from a long exhausting day at the fair, I hurry, help get the kids to bed! “Kiss, kiss, love, hug, rock-a-bye baby, I love you, go to sleep!” And I lock myself in the bathroom, take a nice hot shower, dry off completely, then rip open the box and instructions for my little device that promises to set me free from the hassle of shaving, waxing and buying razor blades…the Smooth Silky Leg miracle in a box.

I carefully read the instructions, distracted by envisioning my whole body as smooth and perfect as the quarter-sized patch on my arm that the demonstrator defuzzed a few hours before, all for the bargain price of $20…then I slide the little mitt onto my hand, perch my right foot onto the toilet seat, like some deranged flamingo, and start my little circles. “Just like ‘wax on wax off’ on Karate Kid!” I remember the little hottie demonstrator telling me, it’s only dawning on me now that my buzz has worn off, that she’s not even old enough to have been born when Karate Kid came out! I shrug it off, and continue my little circles- a few to the right, then a few to the left. The hair on my legs is not really coming off like the hair on my arm did at the fair…maybe I need to rub harder? I know that the box said that “minor irritation” may occur by rubbing too hard against your skin, but I’m thinking that I’ve gotta be doing it too soft, or the hair would just erase off like it’s supposed to, right?

Fifteen minutes later, I only have a 2″ by 5″ patch finished on my right leg, the hair is off, but my leg is as pink as boiled shrimp, and I’m convinced that the hair only came off because the top four layers of skin on top of my legs came off too! Now, one would think that I probably should have decided at this point that this little trinket is not for me. But, no. I am stubborn as hell, I hate to quit, and I always make it happen if I want it to happen. And damnit- I want legs like that bimbo bitch demonstrator’s, and she uses Smooth Silky Leg, so so will I!

I take the mitt off my hand, march into the kitchen, pour a rather generous glass of Cabernet, stomp back into my room, and shut the door- liquid determination by my side. I finish the leg that I started, in record time of 47 minutes, and decide that I need a change of scenery (the Cabernet has worked it’s magic on my inhibitions by this point). I have very sensitive skin, and am always plagued with red, bumpy skin after I shave, especially THERE (I have discussed this issue in a former post titled “the Brazilian Wax Incident” feel free to refer back to it to laugh your ass off at yet another of my painful attempts to have a perfect bikini line, or rather no bikini line).

So, I sit on my bathroom floor, indian-style, and start on my inner thigh with the finger-sized mitt, which I read was “specifically designed for delicate areas such as the lip, eye-brow, or bikini area”. And away I go with my little circles, “Ouch”, I’m thinking- “this hurts, and it’s really not supposed to…” Little circles to the left, little circles to the right….wax on wax off…and I’m distracted by singing “You’re the best…. around…no ones ever gonna keep you down” from the Karate Kid soundtrack, as I do my little drunken circles all over my nether regions…then the wine really kicks in and I’m onto “Glory of Love” from the Karate Kid II soundtrack, “I am a man…” I’m singing in my bathroom, with the fan on, at the top of my lungs, “who will fight for your honor”…little circles little circles, “I’ll be the hero that you’re dreaming of”…damn I sound good in here, “Eat your heart out, Peter Cetera!” I say. Aloud. No, really.

I’ve been sitting in the bathroom, singing all of the score and soundtrack to both Karate Kid movies, while sandpapering my “area”, oversized glass of Cab is empty and has even served as a microphone during my rendition of “the Moment of Truth” by Survivor (also from Karate Kid), when suddenly, the door clicks open, and the Husband is standing there staring at me….reality comes to a screeching standstill before my eyes…embarrassment disguised as being a bitch kicks into high gear, “WHAT?” I hiss. “I fell asleep on the couch, and I woke up to this loud singing, and you’re in here…what are you doing?” “Remember, I bought that hair removal thing? At the fair…the hot girl with the awesome legs…” “You’re doing it now? It’s 1 A.M.” Really? Am I that drunk that I have been in here doing “wax on wax off” to my pelvic region and right leg for nearly three hours? Nooo….but the look of bewilderment on the Husbands face tells me it’s true. “Is it supposed to make your skin so red and bumpy like that?” He asks, genuinely concerned. “Well”, I stammer, “the hair wasn’t coming off when I did it soft like the girl did, so I just did it a little bit harder…” I realize the instant the words came out of my mouth how moronic they must have sounded to my Type A, follow every single instruction to the letter and by the book Husband. “Maybe you should give it a rest for tonight and finish tomorrow,” he suggests. Yeah- he’s probably right- it’s going to be way less fun without the singing and bathroom accoustics, and it is late. I’ll pack it up for now, finish in the morning, and off to bed I went.

The next morning, I was still a little foggy from my Cabernet-induced slumber, and I stumble into the bathroom, look at my reflection in the mirror, and as soon as I see the girl in the mirror staring back at me with scathing red bumps and welts down one leg, and all over her bikini area, I am reminded of the night before as gently as one would be if they walked dead on into a brick wall. “OH MY GOD!” was all I could say as I surveyed the damage that this stupid-ass little mitt had done. Apparently, I am allergic to one of the minerals that make up the “superfine crystals” A.K.A. fine-grit sandpaper, that are used to sand off your hair. The combination of rubbing in circular motions and “exfoliating” as I removed the hair, opened my skin and pores up to receive more of the mineral that I was allergic to, and I ended up with painful welts and hives all over my most sacred parts, and up and down one leg. All in all, it took about 5 days and two tubes of Cortisol to calm the angry allergic reaction, and I have vowed to myself that my search for being hair-free will never venture further than the handle of a razor. Ever.