PREFACE: In August 2002 I submitted this article to Seventeen magazine for their consideration.  They had this dinky little columnist contest to replace their former columnist, Torie Busch.  The prize was publication, $800, and possible continuation as a regular columnist.  In "Torie Talks" Busch...well...talked about issues that actually weren't shallow.  However, as interesting and opinionated as her column was, she seemed a little afraid to take it a few steps forward.  Her article against sex on prom night, for example, was more of a "I'm not going to be having sex during prom night" than a strong argument for or against.  Not necessarily because of her writing, but because the article didn't hold much weight, being published in Seventeen.  She partially blames prom night sex on the girls (for wearing slinky dresses).  The same slinky dresses advertised in the magazine?  If this had been in a different magazine, like, say, TeenInk or Teen Voices, it would've gotten less exposure but it wouldn't have seemed "hypocritical".  So I guess I don't regret not winning the contest, because articles like the one below...would've seemed incongruous in a magazine like...that.  Still, maybe that was why I wrote it and entered it in the first place.  Maybe for a moment I figured some editor would read it and get what I was trying to say.  And agree to put it into the magazine, so people out there would read it and think twice before selling their souls to Gillette.  Of course, Gillette advertises with Seventeen.

My mom gave me some insight the other day on why I didn't win.  "You sent an article against shaving legs to a fashion magazine, after all!"

Yeah.  I guess I did.

Well.  *fanfare*

THE TROUBLE WITH SHAVING; AND MY LIFE AS A CHIA PET

by

Marissa Minna Lee

            Everyone does it, but who enjoys it? 

            Somewhere down the line, society told us that hair on women anywhere besides the scalp, eyebrows, and eyelashes was dirty.  Unclean.  Eww factor.  Guys believed it and girls fell for it.  We screamed when Julia Roberts attended a movie premiere with unshaven pits.  From movies to Playboy magazines— Idealized American women are depicted to be plucked chickens. 

            The average American women did not shave until the 1915’s, when marketing caught on to the then-innovative bathing suits, sleeveless evening gowns, and shorter skirts.  Our culture is paranoid about hairy women, and as a result we have to shave, tweeze, wax, burn, cream, shock…the list goes on and on.

            And it’s a pain in armpit.

            My arms used to be hairier than my legs.

            Why?  Because I would shave my legs, and then afterwards my legs would be completely smooth but my arms would be furry because I wouldn’t want my arms to take a trip into stubble-land.

            I’ve finally sworn off shaving my legs, because I don’t own a lot of shorts to begin with.  If I’m with friends, they won’t care.  If they did care, they’d have a few punches to dodge.  I plan to marry a guy who doesn’t care if I’m just as hairy as he is, because it’s the freakin’ truth.  When puberty rolls around, so do the pubes.  For everyone.

            And as a result, I am a beautiful, part-time Chia Pet.

            But once I a while, I still have to pick up the razor and de-hair my legs.  And unless I want trouble from ignorant bullies who make fun of people with hairy pits, I still have to continue shaving my underarms.  I know that applying aluminum-based deodorant onto clean-shaven pits means I might be risking breast cancer.  But I still do it.  I know nothing is making me shave besides myself, peer pressure, societal scorn, and social conditioning…

            The media has raised me to believe and accept that, in the end, I look better hairless.  But I still wonder why something as natural as female hair growth can rack up so much loathing.

            When a guy grows a goatee, no one cringes in disgust.  If I went a month without plucking out my pits, everyone would run away screaming.

            Guys naturally have more hair, but girls shave off more square inches than guys do.

            I wish “My God, your legs are hairier than mine!” was a compliment instead of an insult.

            I wish guys who complain about hairy girls would try waxing their crotch region.

            I dare anyone with a boyfriend to ask him if it’s okay if you don’t shave, except when you feel like it.

            But society is watching and occasionally my arms are going to have to be hairier than my legs. But I wish it didn’t have to be this way.

            I wish I didn’t have to care.

            To hell with it!  Maybe I don’t.

Note:  All contest entries are the property of Seventeen Magazine.  So I guess if they want they can sue me for "publishing" my own article on my own website.

To hell with that, too.  =P