I’ve been hair-free for a minute, now. It’s a choice I don’t regret. Most women aren’t willing to go that route, but every women should—at least once. Going completely bald is the next best thing to being naked. I should be clear: I ain’t talking about a bald head. At least not the one on your shoulders, but rather the one that rest between your legs.

I’m talking about a bald cooch. Yes, you read that right—a bald cooch.

My affinity for the hairless crotch began a few years back, when a NSFW pop-up interfered with my nightly consumption of innanet trash. It read: LEAKED PHOTOS OF AMBER ROSE. At the time, she was fairly unknown; well, kinda-sorta. She was the trophy girl attached to Kanye West. I proceeded. I followed the link and there it was: a picture of Yezzy’s then girlfriend perched doggy-style, atop crispy white bedding, exposing a furless poom-poom.

What I saw wasn’t the regular clean-shaven pudendum. It had a polished finish—as in no trace of bumps, no razor stubble, not a single hair or follicle in sight. It was picture perfect.

Grandma Clara said “seeing a woman’s crops is bad luck.” Don’t believe my grandma. Click To Tweet

This newfound discovery lead to an epic journey to achieve my own optimum results. In search of getting a pristine puntang, I tried Do-It-Yourself products. Disappointingly, each one was a major fail, falling short in some way or another:

Depilatory creams like Nair and Veet are the worst. While they are easy to apply, their most active ingredient is sodium hydroxide. Yeah—LYE. Remember that tingly sensation from having a relaxer on your head too long? Remember those scalp burns and scabs? Same concept. Using hair removal cream is like putting a perm on your vag. Don’t do it, but don’t go Afro down there either.

Feminine razors are cute and sleek, these days. Them shits is hella sharp, too. They require a steady hand and an even steadier stroke to mow down that lawn. Getting in the creases are problematic, as is razors burns, cuts, and ingrown hairs. Unless you’re on some Edward Scissor-hands shit, leave it alone. Band-Aids down there ain’t exactly sexy.

Trimmers are all together useless. You have to shave that thang 50’leven times before arriving at a stubble-like finish. Trimmers and clippers have a tendency to cause razor bumps, bruise the skin and leave it slightly darkened. If you’re ok with applying Magic Aftershave treatment or rocking a five o’clock shadow down below, go for it. However, I strongly advise against it—your intimate partner probably will, too.


I sucked at DIY and there was one option left—Brazilian waxing. Reluctant, yet eager for goals, eventually I did it. Believe you me, everything you heard about Brazilian waxing is wholly true. The process is similar to a GYN examination; a specialist will have a hand in your lady part.  You will disrobe from the waist down, spread eagle, breath deep, and part them butt cheeks. From roota-to-toota everything goes.

The wax technician will smear hot wax over your cookie. Once the wax hardens, she will loosen its grip around the edges, then snatch the compressed wax which seizes hairs from the root. The tech will inspect for stubborn strands and tweeze them. You will turn over and assume the position—face down, ass up—so hair can be removed from your crack. Once it is over, she will clean, moisturize and powder your punani and your butt. It is long-lasting and doesn’t burn or cut or irritate.

Now, this isn’t for the faint of heart. As a newbie, you may need to gird your loins, literally:

  •  Freshen up – you know why.
  •  Empty your bladder and bowel –  ’cause pissing or farting while getting this service is embarrassing.
  • Pop ibuprophen – it’s a great source of pain management and it reduces inflammation.
  • Cut pubic hair down to a quarter inch – the longer the hair, the more painful the pull.
  • Pray – Psalm 34:17; Joshua 1:9; and Deuteronomy 31:8 come through in the clutch.

After eight years, I’m a pro. Plus, I’m addicted to the game. Brazilian waxing got my goods out here looking like the Pearl of Lao Tzu. It is the absolute truth. It is bare, soft and smooth to the touch. I haven’t had a bad hair day since.

Retire them Wolf Man Jack beards. Be done with the Afro Cooch. Leave that 1970’s bush where it belongs—in the past. It’s vintage, Sis. Let it go.

You, too, can have the ill na-na. I promise it is worth the snatch. Word-to-Muva.

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Ida Harris

Ida Harris is a journalist and cultural critic covering a range of topics that intersect with Blackness, including art, activism, pop culture, parenting and womanhood. Ida is especially known for her critical writing on sexual assault against Black women and girls. Her work is featured in ELLE , DAME , Blavity, Teen Vogue , and USA Today.

One Comment

  1. I’ve must admit, I’m still on the fence, but I love Ida Harris’s writing!

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