I shaved my legs today for the first time in, oh – I don’t know, three months? Can’t say why I let them go/grow but there is something about the endless cold and constant of underwear that reaches to your ankle bones that simply doesn’t inspire one to tend to leg hair. Besides, my husband only just recently noticed that I had stopped, so it can’t be that big of a deal to men despite the fact that smooth silky legs are sold to women by advertisers as being some sort of aphrodisiac. This is probably only the second or third time in my life that I have allowed the hair on my leg to attain noticeable length. The first time was against my will as my mother refused to discuss the possibility of my shaving my legs until I was fourteen, and at the time in spite of my fury with such an arbitary decision, I felt grateful to be allowed to shave my armpits as soon as it became noticeable. The second time I was in my mid-ish twenties. It was the summer that the first of my high school friends, Amy, got married. I wasn’t dating and being a red-head naturally my leg hair was very light in color. You couldn’t see it unless you were inches away and no one was interested in getting that close at the time. I found shaving tedious and like many young women reserved shaving for times of actual relationships that might involve – up close inspections. I spent a lot of my twenties unshaven. This latest hirsute state was not due to lack of anything but rested more upon the cold and the dry air up here which has caused me to limit showering time and use a lot of lotion. Shaving promotes dry winter itch which is not a fire that needs fuel. Now that the weather is warming (notice I didn’t say “warm”) and I have had occasion to wear a bathing suit (and the fact that when he did notice the hair my husband was visibly shocked – though not put off), I decided that perhaps it was time to mow. I dulled only one razor though it was a quarto-bladed one and now have smooth legs from a few inches above the knee to the foot on each leg. It is a remarkably sensual feeling for the first few hours. It also really accentuates the deathly white pallor of one’s winter hide. Just for fun, I googled up the history of shaving for both men and women. Men, it seems shaved for reasons sensible and not so, but women – unsurprisingly – were the victims of advertising that played on their deep-seated body image problems. Leave it to the “beauty” industry to get ugly.