No, not that Bush. This bush. Ever since I read Gawker's completely idiotic non-story about a cad named Dustin Dominiak making out with reformed witch/cannibal-snack Christine O'Donnell, I've been annoyed. Why? Because he excused their lack of action by sniffing, "When her underwear came off, I immediately noticed that the waxing trend had completely passed her by. Obviously, that was a big turnoff, and I quickly lost interest."
Also, confidential to Dustin Dominiak: It's not a one-night stand if there's no actual sexing involved. By your definition, I had a one-night stand with Mabel the Cat last night. Who, come to think of it, is also a hairy puss.
But back to bush. . . As much as I'd like to think that Dustin Dominiak and his aversion to pubic hair is an aberration, that would not be the case. Yesterday, Psychology Today ran a blog post by psychiatrist Stephen Snyder, M.D, talking about the whole bald-is-beautiful trend.
Dr. Snyder writes, "Among many young men that I see in treatment, the sight of a woman's pubic hair produces the same revulsion that in my day might have greeted the sight of her armpit hair. Vulvar hair is regarded as unsightlyor even disgusting."
Disgusting? I reserve that term for foulness like fumunda cheese or that rare fruit found only in the Southern hemisphere, the bitter Dingleberry. Not a perfectly natural secondary sex characteristic.
It's not cheap, either. Young men in my practice tell me that what they like most is a woman who's been freshly waxed. That costs about $100 a pop, here in Manhattan. Not to mention the pain involved.
Just add it to the list of burdens that women are expected to shoulder, in order to please their partners - and to compete with each other. Come on, people. Isn't that list long enough already?
Why yes, Dr. Snyder, I agree that it is. We already have to shave our legs, our pits, check for the occasional nip hair, groom our eyebrows, our 'staches, and not weigh an ounce over 120 pounds to be considered dateable. Do we really need to be dousing our pubes in hot wax and then ripping our down-there hairs out by their tender little roots? I'm hardly a hippie, but I say not.
(Though I'm woman enough to admit that it kills me to have somethinganythingin common with Christine O'Donnell.)