Last year when a young woman requested a session with me, it wasn’t to learn about orgasm, but to get my response to her book on Pubic Hairstyles. Rhonda Coleman is a hair removal technician based in Chapel Hill, NC. When I saw her book proposal, I was impressed. How could women doubt the beauty of their vulvas once they had their very own beauty salon? Rhonda’s book had clever drawings with a multitude of different pubic hair styles available. From totally nude called a Brazilian, to hearts, triangles, landing strips as well as a zigzag lightening bolt. These designs were available in a variety of colors from Moss Beauty Studio.
I’d been styling my vulva since the age of 38 after my lover Grant delicately trimmed and shaped my pubic hair. Once my girlfriends heard my rave reviews, he became known as “Charles of the Slits.” During our sixties sex parties, Grant would set up a mini salon on one wall of my apartment to groom interested women. Today in the Bodysex workshops, it’s where I do Genital Show & Tell including my private sessions…..a very sacred spot that’s been healing women’s vulva shame following centuries of misoganist cunt envy.
As is my habit to embrace extremes in fashion, a trip to London in the eighties turned me onto the idea that I could paint my head like a canvas. That’s when I came home with a multi colored flower on my bleached blonde hair covering the crown of my head with a combination bright pink, red, blue. One summer at Fire Island, Sheila and I buzzed our hair short, bleached it and then we colored both top and bottom with a bright pink or electric blue. It was fun walking the nude beach to the delight of many sun worshipers. We appeared to be from another planet and often got applauded. My last round of blue hair was in 2000 when young Eric moved in with me. When the process became tedious, I dropped bleaching and coloring my hair above and below. Today I honor my white hair as a symbol of my Baubo pride, the ancient crone goddess who remains sexually orgasmic, an excellent reason to celebrate one’s senior status.
For over forty-some years, I’ve sat alongside countless women viewing their vulvas in the same mirror during the Bodysex workshops and private sessions. Among many things, we always discuss vulva grooming. In the past several years most women get waxed at a salon. Some women still shave, others trim with scissors and there’s always a few natural full blown hairy cunts. Of course, I enjoy all these different shapes, colors, sizes and pubic hair styles. I’ve never seen a vulva that wasn’t fascinating.
When I entered my eighties, I made a commitment to do everything that interested me and pubic waxing was one of them. I once had the moustache on my upper lip waxed along with my legs. I clearly remember it was painful and I ended up with little red bumps because I’d applied heavy oil on the area that plugged up my pores. Never again, I vowed! However, an email from Rhonda said she was coming back to NYC and she was bringing her equipment so I could have a positive pubic waxing experience. Gulp! Did I really want to go there? I mentioned I wasn’t interested in enduring more pain as growing old has its own brand of pain. At least I could check out the progress on her book and the material she’d added after we’d talked. That’s when I began thinking about my bucket list as I race toward ninety; to experience a vulva waxing, get my first tattoo and to finally make a documentary of my life while I’m still alive. I’d just turned in the fifth and final soft launch of my memoir. A project I’d been working on for the past 30 years.
FINALLY I can let the book go with a new title, Sex by Design: the Betty Dodson Story. When I realized how utterly sick I am of war, war, and more war— America’s major export, I simply had to get rid of the title “My Romantic Love Wars.” The beauty of self-publishing a book is being in total control. I once heard a story about an artist who used to sneak into museums that owned his paintings so he could make a few changes. I totally identify with that compulsion. However, I promised Carlin and myself that the book was finished. This last round felt like one of my full bodied orgasms after edging the book five times. Really! Next time you make love to yourself, come up to an orgasm and then pull back five times before blasting off into Heaven on Earth. Poor fundamentalists who still think heaven is some place else when it’s right here and now on earth.
However, hell on Earth might be waxing your vulva. I did it and it hurt like hell! Rhonda laughed and said, “I knew you’d be a screamer.” I was hollering and swearing using every dirty word I could remember. When it was finished and I climbed off the massage table, I felt my very soft outer lips that were like little velvet pillows surrounding the vestibule of my vulva. I got it! This pain was similar to child birth. The results are so wonderful we are willing to do it again. Well, all little girls learn early in life that we must suffer to be beautiful.
I looked back over my youth to track my first conditioning to pain. Yes, it was getting my teeth straightened. After going through years of physical pain and the humiliation of never meeting our payment plan on time, I suffered silently as my sexually repressed dentist pressed his little dick against my arm while I was being tortured. Remind me to post my essay titled, “Let’s Pretend it’s a Tooth.” Compared to braces, vulva waxing is a breeze. The upcoming Bodysex workshop is a perfect time to show off Clitty Anne. She has never looked better. I’m also looking forward to our first naked orgasm with the new cordless Magic Wand and my Obsidian hand carved dildo. Whopeeee! Life is good.