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For a lot of us, pursuing the creative career dreams we have means putting on hold the big money-hot clothes-Venice vacation dreams that we also have. BUT as we are all sometimes been forced to admit -both on this site and in actual, physical life- some things are worth paying for and one of these is the bikini wax.
I know plenty of girls who don’t wax and either use other methods to maintain their ladyparts or just take a Born Free approach and embrace the wild. To each his own, I say. Personally, I’m a waxer. Sure it’s kinda really painful, but it’s a once-every-5-weeks type of deal and when closet, office, career and finances are in total disaster I can take comfort in the fact that at least one area of my life is as meticulously maintained as some rich jerk’s topiary maze. Plus, men-folk wise, it makes things go down a lot easier. Literally! No one’s comin’ over to your house if they can’t find it, so to speak.
The thing is, I am an absolute wuss when it comes to pain. I just am, I can’t help it. It took much hemming and hawing before I even realistically entertained the idea of having a stranger pour hot wax on my most delicate of body parts and then rip off said wax. When I finally did it, I took the reccomendation of a close friend and visited Haven Spa in Soho.
The space is lovely and intimate, smells wonderful and has a lot of expensive products lining the shelves of the waiting area. This makes me feel fancy. That said, my first couple of visits were a bit of a Goldilocks experience. My first aesthetician who shall remain nameless was unsympathetic to the fact that it was my first time and kept chiding me for whimpering. The second aesthetician was almost too compassionate, and went so slowly through the process that I almost cried.
But the third time’s a charm, because then I found her.
Stalina. The Ukranian goddess of wax.
Stalina works so quickly and calmly and with such precision that by the time you want to scream the whole business is over and she’s cheerily rubbing soothing cream on you and telling you about her vacation house in the Poconos. She’s fast, she never misses a step and her timing with the wax and the strip is impeccable. Best of all, she keeps a calm air about her at all times, like nothing that’s happening is a big deal, and there’s no need to worry. As someone prone to many levels of anxiety, I find that incredibly soothing.
I’m not sure what makes her so magical, but if I were Beyonce or Dita von Teese or someobody, I’d hire her to come around the world with me, paying a fee to keep her on retainer. I even debated posting this because I don’t want to never be able to get an appointment with her again. She is hands down the best I have ever encountered.
Also? This one time I saw Elizabeth Berkley in there. Hi-oh! If it’s good enough for Nomi Malone’s V-spot, it’s good enough for mine!
A few words of warning:
1. If you are kind of a wimp about pain, and even if you’re not, take 2 Advil or Tylenol about 20 minutes before your waxing and drink as much water as you can during the day before your appointment. It’ll make things easier.
2. Do not ever, ever, drink caffeine before your wax. You will be much more sensitive to the pain and oh, will you regret it.
3. Never, never, ever, ever go for a wax when you are hungover. I speak from experience. It is an agonizing nightmare that I don’t even want to describe.
All told we’re talking 10 minutes of discomfort. Yeah, the service is about $40 without tip but that’s a small medium price to pay for the sort of peace of mind that comes with knowing that one’s ladyflower is impeccably well-groomed and as smooth as that dangerous soft spot on a baby’s head.
150 Mercer Street, New York, NY