Status: grown woman crying on her bedroom floor
Cause: use of epilator (see also: self-torture)
-patient has previous experience
Equipment: an epilator: a small plug-in device with rotating metal teeth that, once activated, rip your hair out from the roots with quick tweezer-like action.
I seem to remember it not hurting this much. Then again that was almost 3 years ago so I guess it’s true when they say that time heals all wounds and ebbs the memory of pain.
I started with a spot near the bottom of my leg, but it soon became apparent that testing this out on a more discreet spot might be a bit wiser since I didn’t know how long the red dots angrily appearing on my skin would last. Relocated to my thigh, where I could more easily conceal my skin if something were to go wrong.
Sweet mother of beauty treatments….if anyone tells you this doesn’t really hurt they are straight up lying because you can feel each little hair being violently displaced from their sturdy homes deep beneath your skin. I didn’t apply too much pressure, and sometimes not enough pressure due to the fear of pain, but even when appropriate pressure is applied it is still necessary to repeat the action to get the desired results. Some of my hairs appear to mirror certain personality traits, primarily stubbornness. I pulled my skin taught as I was advised to do to minimize pain but to no avail.
I seem to have developed some sort of Stockholm Syndrome with this violent little appliance…I don’t mind the pain so much anymore, actually it doesn’t feel all that bad! It’s a bit like getting a tattoo…you just kind of get accustomed to the pain and it dulls.
Nevermind my skin’s angry red and blotchy protest, I feel no pain! I.am.invincible.
New leg, new pain. Oh my gosh I forgot how much this hurts.
Repeat process. Look like some diseased creature but feel like a boss. My legs will be smooth forever!
Results: terrifying looking but smooth upper legs. Hoping this rash will diminish. Painful but, upon reflection of my attempt at waxing my own legs in uni this was just fine. (Seriously though, my roommate Erica and I sat on our dorm room floor cursing like a couple of sailors loud enough to bring people in to see what was happening. I quit after one leg and had to shave the other one twice as much for ages after.)
So if this experiment was a success why, you may wonder, did I begin this post crying on my bedroom floor? That would be because, while riding high on the wave of invincibility, I made the fatal mistake of raising this evil little metal toothed monster to my armpits. Invincibility only lasts so long.