the happy trail

Due (I'm sure) to hormonal upheaval, I developed one when I was pregnant and it stayed for a long time. Long after I gave birth, long after D was weaned, it hung on. I bet my kid was three before I finally lost it. And when I did, I was disappointed. I thought it was sexy as shit. It wasn't much--don't mistake me--just a thin line of dark peach fuzz down my belly to the pubes--but it was like an arrow pointing to my business. How can that not be sexy? Well. Go look it up on urban dictionary. Just about every definition includes the opinion that if a woman has one, it's gross. Kids these days. Sigh.

What brings this up, Andrea? Oh, according to Jezebel, Cosmo has an article this month about how pubic hair is back. Or, rather, as Cosmo says, "Untamed Va-jay-jays." The baby Jesus is weeping at that headline for many reasons. Don't tell me he isn't. And, anyway, it set me to reminiscing about the 80s when all our vulvas were as nature intended, and the full expression of that, which in my case was postnatal sexeh peach fuzz.

It occurs to me that my perception of what is sexy is not shared by everyone of course. Mr Indemnity and I were talking the other day about married orthodox Jewish women covering their hair, and as I thought about it, I thought, hell, yeah, that's pretty hot. You know, to have your beautiful hair be for your husband's eyes alone. Like Angelina saying her new mystery tat was "just for Brad." There's something incredibly erotic about having something that is just for your spouse/lover alone. I was trying to articulate this to Mr Indemnity and he just didn't get it. So, yeah, we don't all share the same tastes. Maybe even in the 80s, there might have been someone who didn't think my peach fuzz road map was teh sex. I guess it's possible. But they would have been wrong.

xoxo