Strip – Tweeze

“Mid-life is when the growth of hair on our legs slows down. This gives us plenty of time to care for our newly acquired mustache.” ~Unknown

Chaplin[2]Introducing, from the silent film era, Charlie Chaplin, aka “The Tramp.”  Skip the tramp label, but with my midlife upper lip fuzz, I could be Charlene Chaplin.  Considering his heavy eyeliner, my mirror and society would say “tramp.”  Brows are questionable, but I have seen worse in the reality of life . . . Wal Mart excursions.

A midlife Murphy’s Law — out of “beauty” wax — the Sally Hansen lip zip for amateurs.  Dark Shadows — starring my upper lip.  Browsing the shelves at Target, there were numerous products promising to make my lip as smooth as a baby’s behind, but I was skeptical.  Sally was tried and true.

Encountering two sisters in the lady’s hair removal aisle — yes, they have shelves of products — we had an animated discussion on lip hair/lip fare.  Finally, they shared Sally Hansen had the best product in their experience.  So… a scavenger hunt for Sally Hansen Wax for hair removal.  Finally, the last box on a bottom shelf.  We parted on giggles.

I have used this product for years.  Sticking the container in the microwave, I nuked it at the recommended time and setting — still as hard as when I put it in.  I nuked it a second time with the same results.  On a time restraint, I raised the setting and gave it a third nuke.  Still hard.

My Sally Hansen kit came with tiny tweezers (no magnifying glass), an application spatula, and a poke-your-eye-out toothpick to part eyebrows if brave enough to wax those.  I picked up the assault toothpick to poke through the wax surface.  While the surface was still as firm as ice on a frozen river, an undercurrent of hot runny wax splashed out at the poke and landed on my hand.

Cold water set up the molten drops; now for peeling them off.  Pain must have triggered a dementia-type mindset.  I mentally regressed back to pulling colored drops of candy glued to paper as a child.  Pain shocked me back to the present, pulling the wax drops off my hand and scraping the splatter off of the vanity.  Skin remained intact, but I redefined “exfoliation” with that maneuver.

Stirring and slowly nuking the wax to the desired temperature and consistency, I iced my lip with the spatula and lip-zipped my upper lip-line.  Smooth and baby-soft, my kisser was no longer a lip-tickling threat.

Scrutinizing my eyebrows, waxing was not an option nor the teeny tweezers.  I selected my old faithful anglers from the medicine cabinet and began the pluck/plucking.  There should be a warning on the Sally Hansen box…. “Do not sell to minors or anyone over the age of 50!”

I will continue doing my strip-tweeze.  If my few straggling chin hairs ever overpower my tweezers, desperation might consider a cutting-edge change — but there is the concern of slitting my own throat?

I am a middle-aged, disabled diva and loving life!

2 thoughts on “Strip – Tweeze

  1. Very funny – made my day. I never leave home without my tweezers – car visor mirrors are dangerous too!

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