APPLIED SCIENCE EXPERT AMY ALKON
Empowering you through science for your best health and boldest life
Love Wool Find A Way
Randell Mais
--Sasquatch, Jr.
"HEY, BABY, wanna come cornrow my back?" doesn't exactly top the list of women-winning pickup lines, and that isn't because most women prefer a man who wears his back hair in a French twist.
Yes, you do have a big, hairy problem. You think it's that you're a white guy with dreadlocks...on your arms. That you've got ankle fur thick enough to break the heart of a Standard poodle. That other men get told they look Irish or Italian, but women want to know whether you're woolly mammoth or bighorn sheep.
Actually, the full-body 'fro you've been growing is nothing an expert barber, beautician, or gardener who specializes in trimming hedges into frolicking reindeer can't handle. More on that in a moment. But, first, let's meet the 800-pound gorilla: How you feel about your fur.
You're ashamed on behalf of your hair follicles. But why? They're not out robbing liquor stores or beating up third-graders and stealing their lunch money. They're simply putting out a lot of hair, which is the one job hair follicles are supposed to do. Sure, Sasquatch, there are a lot of women out there who want men like those they see in fashion magazines, the majority of whom have bodies that look a little less hair-bearing than a porcelain teapot (and probably have boyfriends to match). Those women will never be into you -- not even if you make it your life's work to avail yourself of one or more of the many modes of hair removal: Epilating, depilating, plucking, waxing, sugaring, laser hair removal, electrolysis, and/or death by fire -- the only truly permanent technique.
There are, however, quite a few women who are hot to find a grizzly boy like you. These bear hunters have one noteworthy thing in common with the bare hunters: disdain for mopey, self-loathing, aspiring boyfriends. Confidence is king, furry boy! Parade around as if you like yourself, every hairy little inch, and you might make your much-tufted way into the arms of a girlfriend.
This isn't to say that you should "just be you." Nobody should. That's why there's a megabucks deodorant business. I'm not suggesting you resort to hair-removal -- painful and expensive -- just that you opt for a little hair-management. Use an electric trimmer to mow your body hair down from, say, old-growth forest to suburban lawn (about a quarter-inch in length). Avoid taking it down to stubble (no woman wants to get road rash in exchange for a hug). Phone around to find an old-time barber to mow your back (probably $10-12). To prune your nostrils and ears, order one of those battery-operated whirligigs sold in airline seat-pocket periodicals. Of course, tiny scissors and great eyesight could do the job. It's just that they lack the fringe benefit of the whirly things -- the power to sculpt an inspiring message of hope in your chest hair: something like "Fur a good time, call..."