My Own Horror Stories From Getting Brazilian Waxes In Four Countries

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What It's Like To Get A Brazilian Wax In Four Countries

I started getting my vagina waxed (Brazilian style to be exact) when I was 20 years old, but my first experience didn’t happen because I was getting ready for bikini season or because I had some romantic excursion with my boyfriend. Getting a vagina wax happened purely because I was curious.

What would it feel like? Would it be awkward to have some random women THAT close to my lady parts? I hated shaving, but I also hated having hair down there, so I thought I would give a Brazilian wax a try.

Fast-forward to seven years later and I haven’t gone back to shaving. Waxing every hair off your vagina doesn’t necessarily feel great, but it didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would.

Plus, never having to deal with razor burn down there or spend time shaving was a Godsend.

However, through those seven years, I spent my time traveling all around the world. This necessary little part of my month became quite an interesting experience on multiple occasions as I tried out different salons in the places that I lived.

Here are some of the stories that came from getting my vagina waxed in 4 different countries:

1. At home, here in the United States.

This is my home country and I’ve had not only my first Brazilian wax here, but also the most waxes over the course of my life. My first Brazilian was at a health center and — unfortunately for me — the women in charge of my hair removal was BRAND spankin' new.

Everyone’s got to start somewhere, but I didn’t want MY vagina to be that place for her. There wasn’t too much I could do about it once I was half naked on the table so I clenched my fists as she nervously pulled off each strip ... a TEENSIE bit too slow.

Eventually, I moved on to another salon after that, where I met the friendliest technician ever. She seemed passionate about her job and wanted to make me feel at ease with conversation.

I felt comfortable at first but the experience ended up being like those times when the dentist asks you questions while she is drilling away at your gums. I had to answer all types of inquiries about my life, my boyfriend and my parents while trying not pass out from holding my breath as she ripped my hair out.

Plus, talking about my family with a woman who was tweezing the stray hairs off my panty line was kinda weird. But, I honestly learned to appreciate her during a session when she was sick and I got an older, more militant technician.

That one didn’t have a whole lot to say except, “SIT STILL!” as she showed absolutely NO mercy on my vagina and got the whole thing hair-free in under five minutes. OUCH.

And, all of these experiences don’t really seem as bad compared to my most recent vagina wax when the technician — who was about my age — brought me into the room, didn’t say a word to me, kept getting the wax strips stuck and sent me on my way with a butt crack full of wax that I had to pull out myself once I got home.

It didn’t help that I ran into her in the coffee shop afterward and had to face the person who had to stare at my vagina and butthole while just thinking about how she really needed a cup of coffee.

2. While in Thailand.

This bad bikini wax experience was (sort of) my fault. I walked into a random, run-down looking little spa without taking the time to research it first.

The technician and I couldn’t communicate (we spoke different languages), so I just undressed and got on the table in silence. She pulled out some dusty tools that resembled waxing technology from the 80s and got started.

My hair was being pulled this way and that before she even got the cloth strips on the wax and each time she pulled one off, it was a struggle.

Her toddler kept moving the sheet that covered the door, exposing me to the store’s front window. Eventually, I learned that the lady in charge of my vagina was screaming at her kid, acting aggressive and taking it out on my wax strips. When she finished, I looked down to a complete and total hack job.

She tried to tweeze out the patches of hair that she missed until I told her to stop, paid her the Bhatt and RAN out of there.

My next one in Thailand was much better (I actually got a quality recommendation from a friend). While her salon was also a little hole-in-the-wall, the women was friendly, spoke some English and was extremely excited to show me the wall of her wax room which was covered in graffiti from past clients with only positive things to say.

The experience was intense as she waxed my entire vagina in only TWO strips. After the first one, she started laughing and pointed to vagina, “This side look like city. This side look like jungle!”

3. Visiting South Korea.

Before taking a vacation to Seoul, South Korea, I had been living in China for about seven months. I lived in a city with very little western influence and by the looks of the vaginas I saw in the gym locker room, it didn’t seem like too many women got Brazilian waxes in China.

It could have been the language barrier but I was never able to find a single salon that did this type of waxing, so needless to say, my hair started to pile up.

Taking the bus from the airport into the city of Seoul, I immediately saw a store front labeled Brazilian Wax Center. I begged my travel mate to occupy herself so that I could FINALLY go in and get a much-needed wax.

The place was sleek and the technician used a hot wax that hardened and could be pulled off without even using the strips. The waxing room was set up in a bit of a sensual way, there were candles and the lights were dim.

The hot wax actually felt good and I started to fall in love with the technician just a little bit. But, unfortunately for me, the ambiance was ruined as she continuously took phone calls, kept coming in and out of the room to grab her cell phone and was having conversations while my wax was going down.

I felt like my vagina was an inconvenience to her after a while and couldn’t wait to get out of there and let her get back to her riveting conversation.


4. On vacation in Vietnam.

After living in different places around Vietnam, my boyfriend and I took an actual beach vacation in the town of Nha Trang. In preparation for our snorkeling trip, I decided to get a Brazilian wax from an opulent looking spa near our hotel.

The place was about three stories tall and was one of the fanciest establishments I'd EVER been to for a wax. I was given a silky robe to change into and guided by the staff to a beautiful room with a chair that looked like something out of a doctor’s office.

Two technicians came in to do the job and they had on surgical masks, aprons and gloves.

They used a series of bright lights that showed every follicle perfectly and they took turns pulling up the strips as the other one handed over the tools.

I felt like I was undergoing some intricate operation and it all seemed to go flawlessly until the two girls started laughing and speaking Vietnamese with each other.

I didn’t know what they were saying but I could only assume they were talking about my vagina.

Maybe they thought it looked weird? They were giving me a complex to say the least. I let it go, waited for my procedure to be over and was pretty satisfied with the job they did overall.