First, let me admit that I've never been a girlie-girl. I like earrings, I'll paint my toenails, and I'm extremely fond of mascara (never leave home without it). My obsession with my feminine side doesn't go much deeper than some occasional dresses and a pair of really-too-risque leather boots that I bought at DSW on sale but have yet to wear.
Second, let me admit that I like to shave. Wait; let me clarify that: I like to have smooth, freshly shaven legs and underarms (especially if there are clean sheets on the bed). I do not have any particular affinity for razor blades beyond their obvious necessity.
Now, don't be sending me hate mail, and don't stand on your feminist soapbox. You're not going to change my mind, and you're not going to convince me to ditch my razor. Not only do I like to have silky-smooth armpits, but the few times I've encountered female pit hair (from afar), it's scary.
We had a teacher for a while who claimed to be very European. "I lived in France," she would announce, as if that somehow elevated her above the rest of us. Okay, she was over six feet tall, so she really was elevated above the rest of us, but that's being literal. Not only did she avoid shaving legs and armpits, she constantly wore sleeveless shirts. Every time she wrote on the board, it looked like she had pet monkeys dancing in her armpits.
So, kids, avoid Facebook, avoid non-European things, and avoid decorum, but do NOT bring your own pet (pit?) monkeys the the armpit rodeo. While that may be your right, it's most everyone else's wrong.
