Wax jobs are risky business

Beauty is rarely without its hazards. I used to keep a log of the disastrous things I'd done in the name of vanity, like my too heavy-handed approach to cream depilators and my run-in with an angry facemask. The most memorable — and visible — came after a botched home wax job, when I managed to rip off half my right eyebrow.

As it turns out, even professional waxing isn't guaranteed. Two women in New Jersey were recently hospitalized after winding up on the wrong end of a bad bikini wax. Both women received "Brazilians" — the style popularized by South American women that removes 99 percent of bikini hair and 100 percent of your dignity — and wound up with infections in their private regions. What's more, New Jersey officials briefly considered a ban on Brazilian waxes after one of the women filed a lawsuit. Angry salon managers denounced the move. "In New Jersey, especially," said spa owner Linda Orsuto in an Associated Press article, "where the government has been picking our pockets for so long, it was like, 'Just stay out of our pants, will you?'"

Although New Jersey eventually scrapped the idea of banning the Brazilian, the issue raises a serious question. What would women do if we couldn't take care of our bikini business at the salon? One option: have our partners do the deed. Writer Scott Huler makes a case for this folie-a-deux in an article for the Philadelphia City Paper. Initially, he was reluctant after his girlfriend April suggested the idea. "I said I didn't want to do any waxing and ripping because that waxing area — down there — that's about my favorite place on the planet, and the last thing I wanted to do was give April any reason at all to associate that area with pain, tears and me, all at the same time." But he ultimately relented. "I was invited to participate. And that's a highly restricted area. Just to be invited into the compound, even for a little maintenance, is pretty flattering." They mud- dled through the awkward, painful procedure together, and Mr. Huler insists their relationship is stronger for it.

So, what's the other option, if salon waxing is banned and our partners are too squeamish to step in? Do the wax job ourselves. Which is perhaps the most dangerous option of all. I recently received an e-mail detailing one woman's woe after a run-in with cold wax. After a misfire with the muslin strip, she pulled one leg off its perch and "heard the slamming of the cell door" as the wax left on her bikini area glued her lady parts together. Desperate to melt the wax, she

jumped into a tub filled with water hot enough "to sterilize surgical equipment," and promptly glued her bottom to the tub. "Now, the only thing worse than having your nether businesses glued together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub. In scalding hot water," she writes. Though she eventually rescued herself with a bottle of wax-removing lotion, there's no escaping the moral of her story — for any of us. When waxing,

proceed with caution.

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