A Hairy Situation
The onset of puberty was, as I recall, rather shocking. One Tuesday, in the school changing rooms, I spotted Alex Cook—one of my more physically-advanced classmates —suddenly exhibiting a clump of blond armpit hair that had sprouted almost overnight. Sweet Lord, I thought—don’t let that happen to me! Body hair vividly represented the end of childhood, and although 12-year old me desperately wanted to be an adult, my target age was more like 41. Teenagehood, I realised, was not going to be my happy place. Puberty felt like a loss of control. 6park.com
But then it happened to me, the hairiness, and I can’t honestly say I’ve given it much thought since. I live in England, so, outside of a leisure centre, no living creature need ever bear witness to my body hair. It might as well be in a chastity belt. I never wax it or shape it or trim it, because to do so might imply there's some state in which I believe it might look handsome, even desirable, whereas in fact I actually consider body hair to be an unremarkable hangover from Neanderthal days; a mere quirk of evolution...

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版主:icemessenger于2020_04_12 7:08:45编辑