Vaginas may be weird and hairy, but they certainly don’t need steaming

We’ve moved on from stripping our most sensitive regions of their natural hair, and have
apparently started paying for vagina beauty treatments. Olivia Goldhill rounds up some of
the most absurd products imaginable, including the vajacial. Some women do this, but on their vaginas.  

By Olivia Goldhill
3:45PM GMT 05 Dec 2013

In the good old days, all you needed to be ready for sex is two willing participants and a healthy dose of sexual chemistry. Then pubic hair went out of fashion, and women suddenly had to start plucking, shaving, waxing,trimming away their natural state before copulation.
Now, it seems that vajacials are a thing. As in, facials, but for your vagina.

Apparently, these started off as a relatively simple affair in 2010, with a papaya enzyme mask, deep cleanse and tweezer hair extractions. They’ve moved on though. Impossibly, beauticians have moved on from convincing women that a papaya-scented nether region is a necessary aspect of good sex, and have introduced a whole new
range of vagina-themed beauty products.

Some women, before a big date or perhaps a romantic mini-break, actually book themselves in for a treatment of vaginal steaming. Presumably, they sit back, spread their legs and allow steam to gently (I hope) cleanse their vagina. But what temperature is the steam, where (exactly) does it go, and how on earth is steam any better at cleaning than plain water?
The treatments are usually done a day or two after the woman's period ends, and "heals any
imbalances" in the vagina. Which suggests I've been walking around with an unbalanced vagina for years.

Vaginoplasty is another trend, where you can shape your vagina into the desired shape. But what is this desired shape and who has a vagina that needs to be cosmetically re-modelled before sex? Poetry aside, vaginas are weird-looking things - they’re so un-pretty, I’m unsure what a “beautiful” vagina is supposed to look like. Perhaps we’ve been going overboard with the flower metaphors and some women actually want their vaginas to look like a rose.
Symmetry and neatness are listed as the longed-for traits, but this raises a whole new set of questions - is everyone else measuring their vaginas for perfect symmetry?

Now London’s getting in on America’s vaginal fashion trends, with salons offering "vaginal
rejuvenation" for hundreds of pounds. Bad news for students then (and most other people), who will undoubtedly struggle to afford an appropriately-preened vagina. Maybe it can be a special treat that a couple saves up for once a year, when they can enjoy annual sex day with properly presented sexual organs.

The vagina is apparently rejuvenated by a costly serum, which was originally created to treat wounds, but has moved on to a new life sprucing up female genitals. Magically, this serum can improve "vaginal function" and "tighten and firm the vaginal walls".

I’m not surprised that these treatments exist, but I’m a little scared that women—even one, solitary woman—is paying for them. There are women out there who are so anxious about what their partner will think about their vaginas, that they spend hundreds of pounds making them look “nice”.

But they need to stop this. They really do. No one envies the sex life of a woman complimented on her jojoba and rosemary scents. No one envies the sex life of a woman whose partner notices her jojoba and rosemary scents.

Vaginas are weird and they are hairy and that’s how they’re supposed to be. We need to stop worrying out what our poor vaginas look like during sex. It’s how they feel that really counts. OK?

A Father's email to his adult children

'I am bitterly, bitterly disappointed': retired naval officer's email to children in full

This is the full email that retired Royal Navy officer Nick Crews sent to his son and two daughters in February expressing his and his wife's disappointment in them.

Retired Royal Navy officer Nick Crews Photo: SWNS

2:31PM GMT 18 Nov 2012

Dear All Three

With last evening's crop of whinges and tidings of more rotten news for which you seem to treat your mother like a cess-pit, I feel it is time to come off my perch.

It is obvious that none of you has the faintest notion of the bitter disappointment each of you has in your own way dished out to us. We are seeing the miserable death throes of the fourth of your collective marriages at the same time we see the advent of a fifth.

We are constantly regaled with chapter and verse of the happy, successful lives of the families of our friends and relatives and being asked of news of our own children and grandchildren. I wonder if you realise how we feel — we have nothing to say which reflects any credit on you or us. We don't ask for your sympathy or understanding — Mum and I have been used to taking our own misfortunes on the chin, and making our own effort to bash our little paths through life without being a burden to others. Having done our best — probably misguidedly — to provide for our children, we naturally hoped to see them in turn take up their own banners and provide happy and stable homes for their own children.

Fulfilling careers based on your educations would have helped — but as yet none of you is what I would confidently term properly self-supporting. Which of you, with or without a spouse, can support your families, finance your home and provide a pension for your old age? Each of you is well able to earn a comfortable living and provide for your children, yet each of you has contrived to avoid even moderate achievement. Far from your children being able to rely on your provision, they are faced with needing to survive their introduction to life with you as parents. 

So we witness the introduction to this life of six beautiful children — soon to be seven — none of whose parents have had the maturity and sound judgment to make a reasonable fist at making essential threshold decisions. None of these decisions were made with any pretence to ask for our advice.

In each case we have been expected to acquiesce with mostly hasty, but always in our view, badly judged decisions. None of you has done yourself, or given to us, the basic courtesy to ask us what we think while there was still time finally to think things through. The predictable result has been a decade of deep unhappiness over the fates of our grandchildren. If it wasn't for them, Mum and I would not be too concerned, as each of you consciously, and with eyes wide open, crashes from one cock-up to the next. It makes us weak that so many of these events are copulation-driven, and then helplessly to see these lovely little people being so woefully let down by you, their parents.

I can now tell you that I for one, and I sense Mum feels the same, have had enough of being forced to live through the never-ending bad dream of our children's underachievement and domestic ineptitudes. I want to hear no more from any of you until, if you feel inclined, you have a success or an achievement or a REALISTIC plan for the support and happiness of your children to tell me about. I don't want to see your mother burdened any more with your miserable woes — it's not as if any of the advice she strives to give you has ever been listened to with good grace — far less acted upon. So I ask you to spare her further unhappiness. If you think I have been unfair in what I have said, by all means try to persuade me to change my mind. But you won't do it by simply whingeing and saying you don't like it. You'll have to come up with meaty reasons to demolish my points and build a case for yourself. If that isn't possible, or you simply can't be bothered, then I rest my case.

I am bitterly, bitterly disappointed.

Dad

Also read: The Edifice of Marriage is worth Maintaining.