Remember when you first started shaving your legs (or shaving at all, be you male)? It was an exciting rite of passage. It was exciting at 13, but not so much at, say, 15, when it became a real chore.
Leg shaving was never something I was very diligent about. I'd skip entire winters. The Summer Shave wasn't pretty. Fortunately, my hair has always been lighter, so not as frightening, notwithstanding a few unsightly pantyhose incidents.
At some point, I asked Darren if he'd mind if I stopped shaving my legs. He said he didn't care and that was the last of it. Darren's been gone nearly 6 years and it was several years before that since the big decision. Clinton was probably president and it was still the 20th century. So it's been awhile.
There have been occasions when I've wondered if I should shave them. Important ones like...ok, there haven't been any. I did give serious consideration to it when I had lunch with John Cusack. However, since I wore boots to lunch, it was a moot point. And I'm glad I didn't cuz it turns out he had 5 o'clock shadow at noon.
But today's a new day. Florida sunshine, beach walks, and pale, scaly hairy legs to display. Should I want to impress a guy, say at a restaurant, should I be concerned about this?
Think Burma Shave Signs:
"Cat hair stuck in snarly legs
The foam and razor from the distance begs.
Cranberry Swirl Crumble Muffins.
3 hours ago