I am re-blogging this post by Chloe Thurlow, because it delights me. I have never really understood why ladies would subject themselves to such pain and irritation just so that they can look like plastic Barbie dolls or little girls who have yet to reach maturity. Bare is obscene, in my opinion. A real woman cultures a strong and beautiful bush.
Read the original post here.
The bush is back. Regrown. Soft and kinky. Neatly trimmed. A magic carpet.
Drop the lady razor in the garbage (recycling section), give the tweezers a rest and watch the garden grow.
As one who has wavered between sleek Brazilian, hairy mammoth and scalped pre-pubescent, the return of those short and curlies comes as something of a relief in every way except one, perhaps: the bank account.
Yes, the bush is back – but with new perceptions on care, attention and grooming. We wash, dry, style, mousse and fret over our hair. We are constantly nurturing our skin with unguents and oils, sun cream, anti-aging cream, eyelid cream, squirts of perfume from the Victorian atomiser…It’s not easy being a woman. Then, it’s not easy being anything else for that matter.
Jars, bottles, brushes, lipstick tubes, palettes of powder and sachets of make-up sprawl like defeated soldiers on shelves in the bathroom as if waiting for the inner alchemist to turn the base metal of the mirror’s reflection into the golden glow of Helen of Troy, the beauty whose face launched a thousand ships and plunged the Ancient World into years of war.
And yet, the frilly rug leading to our most intimate place is often snubbed, neglected, forgotten.
The Bush is Back au Natural
It struck me that the bush is back because in our consumer society where pollution is bundled in rights and traded rather than treated, where high street shops sell bras for seven year olds, where milk is poured down the drain to keep prices high, there remains a patch of humanity that had yet to be conquered by the ad man.
Ah, what irony, a girl who writes about erotica and has a conscience, who scorns new products even as she shoves her debit card into the jaws of the machine that whisks out her cash in the flick of a false eyelash. We are all prone to hypocrisy. We are all our own worst enemy. Paradox is Us.
But to get back to the bush is back, Gemma arrived from New York with a present: Fur Oil, a neat round bottle with a lemony gold emollient and a plunger like an eye-dropper that makes you think each drop is as precious as the elixir of life and it is – retailing at $39 from the website, with stores coming on board and the promise of a launch in the UK in the coming months.
Naturally, I went straight to Fur website and enjoyed the sassy introduction: ‘Few things in life are certain, but pubic hair is one of them. Fur is the first line of products that cares for pubic hair and skin.’
The three young women behind Fur – Emily and Laura Schubert and friend Lillian Tung – advise us to ‘treat our most sensitive area with more respect,’ and promise that their natural products will nourish your pubic hair… ‘and won’t stain your silk.’ That is a relief.
Note the word ‘products’ above. Along with the oil, the Fur girls have also developed a Stubble Cream for those behind the curve and still asking the question: To Cut Or Not To Be Cut?
Fur Oil smells delicious and contains nine natural oils including grape seed, jojoba, tea tree oil and clary sage seed oil – add hot water and I imagine it will taste as good as it smells. The bush is back and not before time.
I have been bold enough to re-blog Chloe’s post on my own blog and to declare my own personal preference.
Anybody else care to express a preference or make a comment?
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