Yes, yes, yes, I want to hear more about anal bleaching! I read a book, Angels by Marian Keyes, last year that mentioned it. I hooted with laughter at the absurdity of it, thinking it was something the author made up to amuse her readers. Then, not two nights ago, during my nightly teeth-flossing-while-watching-E! ritual, I saw a woman on Dr. 90210 getting her butt bleached. HELLO?!? Women actually do this??? I couldn’t decide which was worse (or better, depending on your perspective), the fact that she allowed this to happen to her on national TV, or her comment afterward: “It’s going to be so nice for the wedding.” Is she planning on showing her anus to her wedding guests?

I can’t believe Martha Stewart left this off my to-do list for my upcoming wedding. Along with getting regular manicures and pedicures starting six months prior to the event, apparently I’m supposed to be getting my anus bleached in preparation for a potential sighting by friends and family on the big day.

I’m not sure why I am offended and disturbed by this. After all, I get regular Brazilian bikini waxes. But this seriously seems like a new form of self-loathing. Why, why, why?

Deborah

My Sweet Little Bride-to-Be,

You pay a stranger to smear hot wax all over your sweet cooter, up and down your winsome little butt crack, and then, using strips of fabric, this paid professional savagely rips all your poor innocent pubes out by the roots, and you’re calling someone else nutty? Hmmm.

The woman featured on the television show you’re talking about is a porn actress named Tabitha Stevens (bewitching, no?), so keeping her bunghole camera-ready is in her professional best interest. Imagine the pressure she’s under. Have you ever seen a full-screen video shot of your brown eye? Hell, I wouldn’t be able to pick mine out of a lineup if it weren’t for the Clay Aiken tattoo sitting atop my crack. Every stray hair, freckle, or mole (or, God forbid, worse!), suddenly magnified a thousandfold for all the world to see! I don’t even like the magnifying mirror at the dermatologist’s office, so I can kind of understand why this particular woman in this particular field chose to do something that the non-pros among us would consider somewhat deranged.

Recall, if you will, that big fake boobies are also the norm amongst porn stars. Pornography is the reason a generation of men has grown up under the impression that D-cups naturally stand at attention at all times (even when their owner is lying flat on her back). These same gentlemen believe that an adult lady’s genitals should be as hairless as those of a prepubescent child and that it’s entirely possible for a woman to reach orgasm via fellatio.

Which is fine. Men get stupid where sex is concerned, so it’s up to us broads to educate them. What’s not fine is when these trends trickle down into the heads of regular dames who previously had no interest in becoming hair-free, pumped full of saline, and/or liposucked into oblivion. Eventually mainstream society starts buying into the whole scam, and as a result, a barbaric procedure like labiaplasty becomes something to be advertised alongside nose jobs and gym memberships. Now who’s stupid?

I can guarantee that if someone had suggested you wax your entire nether region seven or eight years ago, you would’ve laughed in their face (and rightfully so!). But as hairless coozes have become the norm in movies and print, the regular ole hairy vag has been relegated to the fetish bin. The bald beav is so common these days, your mom’s probably gone hairless. Is the pigment-free bunghole the next Brazilian? To find out, I phoned the Sherman Oaks salon (aptly named Pink Cheeks) that bleached Ms. Steven’s winky to check on the popularity and cost of the procedure. Tellingly, I got put on hold for so long, I eventually lost patience and hung up. Yes, Brenda Starr would’ve stayed on the case, but I think the inordinately long hold time told me all I needed to know. At least out California way, the shiny bleached rectum is the wave of the future!

Need to know? Write Dategirl at dategirl@seattleweekly.com or c/o Seattle Weekly, 1008 Western Ave., Ste. 300, Seattle, WA 98104.