Chest hair and a fuzzy butt, TV’s Andy West could deal with. But when hairs started sprouting out of his back and – God forbid – his ears, he knew he had to do something about it. 
I remember the first time I saw a single hair growing from my left shoulder. I genuinely thought I was turning into a wolf person who would have to join the circus.
Now as I near my mid-thirties, I’ve realised I wasn’t far wrong. As well as the perfectly acceptable hairy chest, I have a hairy bottom and hairs growing on my lower back and across my shoulders. Rapunzel seems to have moved into my nose and I’ve even found one platinum blonde beauty growing from my earlobe. I called it Pamela. She is no more.
I needed help before a photoshoot so I searched for somewhere to go and thank God I found Wax In The City on the Kings Road in Chelsea. I know, posh eh? But actually the prices were fine for the sakes of feeling confident about the way I looked.
The fabulous specialist who treated me, listened with a patient, slightly bemused smile as I waffled on about my body hair and then calmly told me to strip and wait on the bed. I think she told me she was Russian but all I could hear was the blood in my ears. This, I thought to myself, is what Anne Boleyn must have felt like in her final moments. Was I not to be given a velvet hood to shield me from the sight of the waxing pot?
As I took my clothes off, trying not to catch my reflection, I remembered the time I experimented with my mum’s upper lip wax when she was out doing the weekly shop. I was 14 and in an experimental faze which had already inspired a single shaved eyebrow and a haircut which could only be described as a cross between Dudley Moore and a Manx cat.
I had taken the wax and smeared it onto my leg. It cooled and I went to rip the wax away. Each hair felt like a bee sting. In tears, I gave up half way through and spent the next fortnight walking around with a large scab of wax stuck to my leg. Surely, this couldn’t be as bad? I lay on the bed and waited, feeling more than a little self-conscious.
My delightful wax wonder returned a few minutes later and, with a quizzical look she asked whether I was after a bottom wax. I said ‘no’. She smiled and said I could put my boxers back on which was hugely embarrassing but I’m sure she’s seen marginally worse.
First, she waxed my back which was great and not at all painful, and then she offered to tidy the neckline of my hair. The hair at the nape of my neck has been on a long-standing adventure towards my shoulder blades so she quickly whipped that away. It was a little sore but nothing too bad and it felt amazing to run my fingers around my neck and not feel self-conscious.
Then…the nose. I wasn’t absolutely expecting this one. I turned onto my back (with the usual pang of tent-related fear all guys get in such situations) and did as I was told. With my chin up, she poured a little warm wax into my nostrils and let it cool, chatting away about this and that in a very calming way whilst occasionally tapping my wax-filled nose-holes with her fingernail. Then, like a kindly mother putting a plaster on a child’s knee, she smiled briefly and ripped the wax from the inside of my nose in two almighty tugs.
I was about to scream in agony when I realised I wasn’t actually in any pain. Any guy who’s tried plucking the old nose hairs will know how it makes the eyes stream but somehow this procedure, while less relaxing than a stroll in the bluebells, was perfectly fine. And afterwards…I had the freshest nostrils in Chelsea! Breathing felt easier, I was less self-conscious about people seeing up my nose (I’m 6 foot 2 so that is an issue) and I even felt as though my smell was more sensitive, though that may have been my imagination.
All in all I left Wax In The City feeling like a shiny, younger, smoother man. My confidence instantly improved and my whole body tingled with freshness from the lotion my waxing wonder had applied to cool the waxed areas. It’s been three weeks since the procedure and I’ll have to go back soon but I’m still looking much better for it.
I never thought I’d say this but…I can’t wait for my next waxing.
And afterwards…I had the freshest nostrils in Chelsea! Breathing felt easier, I was less self-conscious about people seeing up my nose (I’m 6 foot 2 so that is an issue) and I even felt as though my smell was more sensitive, though that may have been my imagination.
All in all I left Wax In The City feeling like a shiny, younger, smoother man. My confidence instantly improved and my whole body tingled with freshness from the lotion my waxing wonder had applied to cool the waxed areas. It’s been three weeks since the procedure and I’ll have to go back soon but I’m still looking much better for it.
I never thought I’d say this but…I can’t wait for my next waxing.
Do you need to get your hairy bits tamed? Try Wax In The City for this and other fabulous treatments.