My big hairy distraction

The hair on my legs is very long. And suddenly, I'm more aware of it. More aware even then when my daughter was braiding it (haha! just kidding!) I mean stroking my leg absentmindedly during our Bible reading one night a week ago. 

A four-inch section on my leg from my skirt to my boot is exposed. My leg is very white; my hair, very black and extraordinarily wild. It sticks straight out and/or up, unlike the tame hair on my husband's legs and despite all the lotion I rub in a downward fashion over it every morning. I'm sitting in a room with 200 chairs, nearly every one of them filled. Except the one on either side of me. "Do they see my hairy legs?" I suddenly wondered. "Is the glare of my pasty skin making my legs shine like a beacon in the night sky?" 

The truth is I don't want anyone to sit next to me. Because then I may have that awkward break in a conversation where eyes divert. Then they might notice my extra long leg hair, definitely not to be confused with a couple days' worth of stubble. There would be an immediate shocked facial reaction to the scene just above my boots.  And we'd both feel all weird; the conversation would get uncoordinated. I would blush, which is embarrassing because the bright red tone grows from my neck up to my face -- the warm, tingly sensation making me all-too aware of how I'm yet again standing out like a neon, flashing sign in the middle of Athens (which doesn't even have a stoplight or billboard). 

I am by nature a hairy person. The hair on my head is rather thick, even if fine, and at the moment, longer than usual. Still, I had NO idea how hair can heighten the senses. Until I had them growing on my legs for the first time in 23 years. Three weeks into my shaving fast, I became "aware." A tingling sensation strikes every time I'm showering and the water runs down and over those tiny course hairs. My husband finds this amusing, as he encounters no such heightened feeling related to his leg hair. 

By now, you're probably wondering why the heck I'm not shaving. And no, I'm not touching my razor at all. Just be glad it's not tank top season! There are a few reasons actually. I began subscribing to Girls on the Run Founder Molly Barker's blog at mollybarker.com when I heard about her Naked Face Project. She's given up all beauty rituals, tools and products. That means no hair coloring, pedicures, makeup, shaving, etc. Other women nationwide are joining her, and she's blogging about her 60-day adventure. There are no agendas, no judgments or criticisms. It's just an experiment. Since I don't color my hair (yet!) or get mani/pedis. And while I realize this sounds horrible, I couldn't -- at least not right now -- give up makeup. But I wanted to stand in solidarity with the intent of the project -- to examine these routines, rituals and values. Giving up a razor was something I felt could do. 

Little did I know that my winter weight gain wouldn't easily peel off, leaving me unable to fit comfortably into most of my pants. That and the unseasonably warm weather has meant my elastic-banded skirts are a real viable option. That's probably not a bad thing, since it's making it more "real." (Read about Molly's armpit flash on her blog -- it's hysterical!) 

Shortly after I started going without a razor, something else occurred to me. In other cultures, there are no razors, Oil of Olay, Covergirl or Mary Kay. And the women are without a doubt beautiful and desired by men -- hair and all. 

So why do we put so much emphasis on silky, smooth legs? 

I'm not adequately equipped to answer that question anymore than I can explain why super models weigh 26 percent less than the average woman. These are big questions, and I think the real problem isn't that we don't have an answer but that we fail to inquire. We simply grab a razor, cover our grays, put on mascara and straighten our hair without examining what, or who, motivates us to do so. In fact, when I checked into my hotel room for this conference, I was hit by a moment of panic when I realized I'd forgotten my razor. Despite having gone five weeks without shaving, so ingrained is this ritual. Do we simply accept the propaganda of magazine advertisements and billboards as to the standard of beauty and products we need to buy to achieve it? Just wondering. 

As I tug at my skirt to cover as many straggly hairs as possible, I ask myself if I believe these things really make me more desirable. Or do they simply make me more comfortable in my society? And is that like peer pressure or is it really just a cultural norm that's not so bad? But it's not a conversation I want to have right now with a perfect stranger. So when they dim the lights in the ballroom just as someone heads down my aisle to grab one of the empty seats, I whisper a "Thank you, God" prayer for a darkened conference room. 

What are your thoughts on this experiment? The reason we do these things? How it affects young girls? Or boys? I'd love to hear your thoughts. Please comment below and let's get a conversation started!

By the way, here's what my legs looked like in the workout pants I brought with me to the hotel. I was the only female in the gym, but I fit right in with the guys!