As stated in a previous Daily Caller column, I’m positive I was born too late, because there is just no understanding the following activity if you’re a woman of a certain age.
A friend of mine sent me a link to an odd little Web site called The Luxury Spot, “…started by a bunch of fun-loving, posh New Yorkers with a penchant for better living. We’re a jet-set, in-the-know kind of crew and our readers come from every corner of the globe. Where there is good style and a great scene, TheLuxurySpot.com reigns supreme.” That explains why I was unfamiliar with the site and hadn’t already bookmarked it.
The link featured a first person narrative about some atrocity called Vajazzling. Nope, don’t bother. I’ll tell you: It’s the latest in vaginal adornment. (Wait: the ‘latest?’ There are more?) Bryce, a Luxury Spot contributor, explains that this one uses “some pretty fabulous Swarovski crystals” on your own “business,” as she so cleverly terms it in her article about her experience.
So here you go: a woman visits a spa (like Completely Bare Spa in New York or Strippers in D.C.) for a fairly thorough bikini wax. She then has crystals strategically placed all over the freshly waxed area, a.k.a. her crotch. In some sort of adorable configuration. Maybe as a heart? A star? A butterfly?
It’s kind of like a sparkly temporary tattoo. A vajazzling tech—or artist—or whatever they’re called—applies a small sheet of crystals to the skin, and affixes them using only the heat from her hand and a bit of adhesive “invisible to the naked eye.” Let’s pause for a question here: If you have a vajazzled woman lying beside you, will you get distracted for even one half-second about a bit of lingering adhesive you may see on each crystal? That’s what I thought.
In addition to the sheets of crystals that create this living work of art, individual crystals get applied by hand, with tweezers, for the personal configuration every woman desires. Why conform to a standard style when your personal vajazzling can be one-of-a kind?
Apparently, most of us had been living in asexual caves with little notion about this sort of decoration until actress Jennifer Love Hewitt shared her enthusiasm for vajazzling. Who could stop the onslaught that resulted? Women everywhere – well, not me and not one woman I ever met, worked with, befriended, or otherwise encountered in life – demanded to know how they could get in on this. After all, Jennifer revealed she does it to feel good about her “privates.”
Let’s review. Step one: Wax. (Bryce underwent the process in the name of journalism, and reported that the waxing was relatively painless. Sure it was.) Step two: Get adorned with crystals. Step three: Feel good about yourself. At least for about five days, which is how long the little shiny bits will remain affixed, provided you refrain from vigorous activity for 24 hours following application. Take note brides-to-be! This isn’t something you want to schedule on rehearsal day!
I’m left with almost no words except for this: Why? Have women become so blasé about our sexual natures, so insecure about our own unadorned, flesh and blood bodies, that we’re somehow seduced by the idea of decorating our most private selves with crystals? Perhaps sisterhood has evolved to the point where we all secretly want to emulate porn stars. Apparently, we’ll feel better and happier if we get sparkly stones glued to us. I’m beside myself with pride.
But here’s the thing. I like pretty. I love spas and pampering and crushed pearl facials and mango sugar scrubs. I love whirlpools and eucalyptus saunas and hour-long massages. I even manage to fit them in, once a decade or so. But vajazzling? Pass. I seem to have drawn a kind of female Maginot Line I choose not to cross, even with Swarovski crystals waiting on the other side.
Renee James writes social commentary and keeps track of the things that mystify her on her blog: It’s not me, it’s you. Her e-mail address is email@example.com.