Sauced In New York Sometimes the food is in the sauce, sometimes we are
True confessions. Oh, Lord, even my husband doesn’t really know about this!
Most women with any sort of Mediterranean heritage will understand.
Chin hair… just sort of… happens.
We pluck, we bleach, we hide it any way possible.
Then you reach middle age, and you can no longer see those hairs in the mirror. Without a powerful magnification mirror, that makes a normal wrinkled brow look like a cavernous fold. How many times have you, all of you women who are understanding this conversation, found yourself driving to work, or out to meet friends, or to a party, and your hand grazes your chin, only to feel THAT HAIR STANDING OUT! Oh, Lord, how did I not see you before?
You try pulling it between finger nails. Doesn’t work. Your hand is repeatedly drawn to that one renegade chin hair, yes, that is where it is, oh it feels pretty thick, and of course it is dark. Everyone will see it!
I reached a point in my life where I realized my eyes were failing on their duty to find stray locks of hair south of my ears. I could either pack a mirror and tweezers in my car, or I could go with the latest and greatest fix: laser hair removal. For a few hundred dollars, you can have it all go away.
Or mostly.
And then, as you drive in blissful confidence, your hand brushes your chin…. ANOTHER RENEGADE HAIR! How did you survive????? We killed all of you!
