At first, I was hesitant of writing down my story, but the more I told my friends about my experience, the more I realized we all went through the same awkward, uncomfortable and painful situation the first time we did it and there is nothing to be ashamed of.  No, I am not talking about sex, I'm talking about wax. Hi, my name is Lucia, and this is the story of my first Brazilian wax.

There were so many reasons why I decided to graduate from my -oh so dreadful one hour lock-down in the bathroom with some cold wax strips and a blow dryer- to –letting a stranger wax it for me-. But the ONE reason why it took me 8 years to graduate was : fear.

Try to understand me. The first time I attempted waxing down there... my lady parts were bleeding, and my friends were outside the bathroom googling how to clean up wax that didn’t come off right. It was a nightmare!

Overtime, I learned to master the art of at-home-bikini-wax. Buy a pack of cold wax strips, cut them into small enough sizes that actually using tweezers could work faster, heat them up a blow dryer, and try to wax the bikini line in less than 2 hours. Oh the tension and fear when you are just about to rip off that wax strip that is close enough to your most sensitive… But enough about the past and on with the future (although actually my story happened a month ago).

As some of you may know, (what's up Beauties Tribe?!) I am kind of new around here, and so is Patty my Venezuelan friend. It had been a few weeks since she had been looking for a nice place where they could do her eyebrows and legs, but she had no success at finding a good place. Finally, she went to a special place close to where she lives, and she told me all about it:

Lucía, I got myself a Brazilian wax. You HAVE to do it!

I want to put this into perspective, ok? Patty is 4 years younger than me. She had never even plucked out a hair from you-know-where, and she went all alone to get a complete Brazilian wax!!! Is she not FREAKING brave or what? And when I asked her how'd it go? She simply said with a big smile on her face:

Life. Changing.

Ok, that's it. I'm doing this!

When it comes to waxing, timing is everything. Are you going on a trip soon? Is there a romantic event coming up? Is the hair long enough to be perfectly removed? Are you going to be in your period? These are all factors that need to be considered before making an appointment with either a specialist or the cold-waxing-strips and the blow dryer. My timing was impeccable except for one little detail: they do not take appointments, first show first served. I hate this rule.

I went with my friend Julio, to whom I want to publicly apologize for the trauma I may had caused him. I was very nervous, and he was kind (brave) enough to accompany me into this journey of pain, no man needs to ever experience. Since “first show first served”, we decided it was a good idea to go on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, where everybody should be outside playing in the park or doing something more important than waxing. Wrong. 

For safety and out of respect, I will not give out the real name of this place, so let’s just call it “Fast and Furious Hair Removal Spa”. LOL.

That first entrance though. I will never forget it. We stood there, frozen for 5 minutes thinking: are they giving out free waxing today or what?

The waiting room was packed! Every sit was taken and there were also some ladies standing up by the corner waiting. The waiting room was big enough to sit 30 people. The walls were painted in pink, and there were fake greek-ish columns every two meters. The lighting came from mini plastic chandeliers in the ceiling, and a table lamp in the shape of a flower with fluorescent light. The only thing missing was an altar for the “Virgin de Guadalupe” and this place would´ve been ON POINT!

At the very end of the waiting room, in the reception counter, was an old fat guy sitting in the middle of two nurse looking ladies, hosting the party. Sunglasses on, open shirt revealing he does not use the services of “Fast and Furious Hair Removal Spa”. Big mustache, grumpy sweaty face. How can they put him as the first thing you see when going to a waxing salon is something I cannot explain. 

Let's go home.

Julio convinced me to stay and ask. I crossed the room trying to seem super confident, and as I'm approaching the reception counter I mumble shyly:

- Hi, I'm here for....

- Take a number!

I quickly did as the grumpy man said and returned power-walking to where Julio was standing, still in the entrance. He hadn't move an inch. Poor thing, I don't know who was more scared : him or me. We looked at my number : 57. We looked up to the screen: 23?!?! 

The numbers were moving fast, so we decided to stay. We found two empty chairs between “woman eating her lunch from a tupperware” and “annoying teenager on the phone”. 

After a few minutes, I relaxed and began looking more closely at all the women waiting in the room. The ages varied from 14 to 60 years old. They were all so different. Different colors, different races, different ages, alone, with friends, texting, eating, waiting…. We were all so different from each other, and yet we were all there with the same purpose: remove some undesired hairs.

My number was up. My hands were sweating and my heart was racing. Ok, time to get down to it (literally).

Inside, the place looked like a factory of hair removal! I could see why the numbers were changing so fast. There were two sets of 8 reclining chairs in one room and another set in the second room. All the ladies working there were busy moving speed of light with the waxing and the threading. Like hair removal machines, they dispatched swollen-face ladies, one after another, after another.

A nice lady showed me to an empty chair from the set, and asked me to sit and wait.

But I'm here for the bikini wax.

I told her thinking: no way Jose! One stranger looking at my hooha is more than enough thank you!

She apologized for not knowing and took me into the private room where the magic happens. The waxing of course!!!

I waited for a minute, standing in the corner staring at the bed wishing I was here for a massage appointment instead of a torture one. 

The Asian lady arrived: “La Professional”. 

Obviously I wanted to do some small talk before the ripping, so I told her that this was my first time and I was super nervous, and please be kind and soft to me, and bla…bla. 

She placed some new cloth covers in the special bed, and turned to look at me. Ready dear? I asked her if I had to take off everything (stupid question) well no... you can leave your shirt of course! But if you want to have the complete brazilian then yes, you need to take off your underwear.

...6.5 minutes later. 

I swear it didn't take more than that, La Profesional was done with me and ready to wax someone else's hooha.

So, my overall experience was:

From 0 to getting the worst menstrual cramp ever in your life, this hurts a solid 7.

So it hurts what it's supposed to hurt, not more not less, but you are only there for a few minutes and it's done! It is uncomfortable, yes a little, but it is better to have a professional doing it for you instead of hurting yourself trying.  My advice to you: do it, it IS life changing.

Here are some places in greater Montreal that the Beauties tribe recommends: 

Lea recommends Institut France Laflamme and le Bar Beauté Maggie Bouffard (South shore) as well as The Ten Spot in Westmount and Bella Clinique in Griffintown.

Gabriella recommends EQlib downtown.