Fuzzy Navel, Out!

After enduring weeks of a fuzzy navel full of hairs of an assortment of lengths, the curse that is Procrastination was finally broken by my sheer grit and determination to go fuzz-free whenever I pair hipster jeans with that tiny cropped top. A few good yanks with the salon-style wax strips I bought eons ago in Watson's and I was good to go. But, despite exhortations from fashion gurus of magazines and the like, I've only waxed my underarms ONCE. Do they, the style-philes of the So-Hip-It-Hurts world, realise what an irony it is when they tell you to do so (in order that one does not suffer the painful, bothersome and embarrassing fate of in-grown hairs) and then in the next paragraph reveal that you need at least 2cm of hair (starting count from the outside of your body, ie not inclusive of that bit of the root that gets pulled out when you use other, less sophisticated methods of hair-removal like plucking) in order for the wax to get a firm grip on your follicles? Needless to say, you can imagine how many day's I'd gone out in tees with longish sleeves, and how oh how it itched when I walked.