Organ Grinder:
News for Pervy Little Monkeys

There are those who will tell you (rightly) that no sane human should shave that area. They say that pubic hair is nature's welcome mat. They will insist that a real woman (or man, presumably) sprouts huge swathes of glorious fur from every shaded cove; which is in fact the will of God, or the Goddess, or Gloria Steinem or Oprah or whatever and is Therefore The Way It's Got To Be. Such people are well meaning and they have a right to their own opinions. However, if you listen to them, you're not much of a Pervy Little Monkey are you?

Like it or hate it, genital depilation has been a growing trend since the early 90's. One theory is that the idealization of pornography coupled with a late-eighties worldwide lycra shortage gave birth to the "Brazilian." This epidermal curiosity resembles a thin moustache, pasted sideways and secured with a ridiculously expensive thong. No one knows why the perpendicular-moustache part remains. Perhaps it is a flag, an official reminder that the genitalia before you belongs to a woman and not to a prepubescent kiwifruit. Perhaps it is the thong's way of denying its own redundancy.

Speaking of redundancy, people with commitment issues should never shave their pubic hair. Because shaving is a commitment. A daily one. A lapsed Brazilian bears a stiff penance. A woman I know forgot to shave for two days last week and found herself scratching enthusiastically while standing on a traffic island waiting to cross Clark Drive. OK, OK, it was me. (I came to my senses after wondering why all the trucks were moving so slowly.)

It is a fact: Among those who groom genitally, the Bonsai Pussy is outnumbered ten to one by the angry, itchy, don't-fuck-with-me-I-could-slay-you-with-my-razor-burn kind. Same goes for that yummy brown gummie-butt in the magazine. Somehow we think that the hair above the neck of the nudie model required less grooming than that below the waist. People, this is a fallacy, and a dangerous one. The maintenance of that smooth-as-a-suburban-hot-dog-bun look is a constant effort that requires dedication, focus, and, yes, faith. (Thrill seekers: try it sometime without your glasses.) In short, it's a religion.

There are many religions that require full pubic depilation. When the Bic Ladyshave was introduced in Turkey, around 1550 AD, it was adopted by progressive women as an alternative to "sugaring" (which is a cross between waxing and using a wad of chewing gum to remove still more gum from your wig.) There followed a loud outcry from some of the more fundamental men. (This may have been the result of the very first cases of testicular stubble burn.)
The first time I ever attempted to groom the bunny slope was ten years ago, following a lover's ill-timed and uncivil comment. After I threw him out (and before I broke all of his Skinny Puppy LPs), I had a good look in the mirror. Goddamn it, he was right. I could have woven a Nepalese poncho with it.

So begins the saga. Someone (your girlfriend?) suggests a trim. You are an accommodating and curious person, and you really enjoy receiving oral sex, so you will agree to try it. Just This Once. (Ha, ha, ha.) And trim you will, with the folding scissors that you found in your boyfriend's stash. Three painstaking hours later, you will look down and decide that your handiwork makes you look like locusts had attacked you. Then you suppose the best tool for the job is a razor. You think you may have one around, and YES! There it is! The pink one that your mother gave you as a Confirmation present. THROW THAT SHIT AWAY.

If you must use your boyfriend's razor, for mercy's sake use a NEW BLADE. Do NOT shave against the grain the first time you try it. Trim first, take it easy, go back the next day. Remember the immortal words of Mae West: Anything worth doing is worth doing slowly. It's your groin, after all; it's not going anywhere. (Rinse with cool water and use a good quality skin conditioner. That's the fun part.) Do NOT shave more than twice with the same blade. Do NOT attempt a dry shave with a Gillette Mach 3 while lying in someone else's bed high on mescaline. Not even when the little green toad tells you "it'll feel reeeealy good." Not even when he says "Reeeally good, like, making your first mud pie good." Take it from me, friend: When it comes to grooming your bush, that little shit is a liar.