After waking up super late, with hair that looked like I’d done ten rounds with a bush this morning, I was running behind. Well behind. As way of a change. As such, I was forced to apply my make up on a packed London Victoria bound train. Not OK.
I looked up, whilst using my iPhone camera as a mirror (all of the class, especially when your camera takes a photo of you by accident, see above) to see a bloke staring at me.
It wasn’t through lust (clearly – 8am Jo aint a sight to behold), it was through pure and utter bewilderment….Bewilderment, that on a moving train, I was painting my face in with some precision using a non reflective surface as a mirror. He looked on in agony as my mascara wand reached my eyeball. The train halted and the wand went into my eye. Like a true pro, out came the face wipes, away went the tear and on I carried. By this stage my man looked like he wanted to weep.
It was in that moment that it dawned on me, that there are many painful things in life that only females will understand.
Boys. Read. Take Note.
The things we go through.
Here’s some of them. (credits to our Shezza Webb for her help on this one today)
The Mascara Wand In Eye
The reason for this post. No sting quite like the entry of pure black liqud into your pupil…on the end of a sharp bristled stick. Once the pain passes, along comes the 3 hour fear that you’ll contract some sort of eye infection and loose your eye. Because you’re a woman, so as such are completely irrational.
Nail Varnish Remover In A Cut
Oh hey pure acid in my blood stream….how do?! Que… jumping around your room like a complete fruit cake whilst still managing to not smudge or knock your recently applied Barry M.
Girl…you got this.
Ohhhhh. The one by one removal of every hair in your face. One at a painful time. Whilst you hang your head under a bright lamp to make sure you don’t miss any strays. All because it’s the week before payday and you can’t afford a thread. Pain.
The joys of having a small grandma lean over your head with cotton in her mouth whilst she slices your face apart. Like the eyebrows aren’t bad enough…roll on my girl getting one knee on the arm of your chair and starting on your top lip. TOE. CURL.
Deodorant on a freshly shaved armpit.
Holy. Mary. Mother. Of. God.
Catching Your Leg On A Razor
Oh yes. The removal of one’s own skin on a Lady Bic. Now that’s bad. Putting cream on your leg afterwards. I said GOD DAMN!
Getting Your Hair Caught In A Zip
No lads, clean your minds. Your head hair getting caught in your coat zip. Tears on a train mate. Tears. On. A. Train.
When A Bloke Bites Your Lip And Thinks It’s Sexy
To a degree, we can all get involved and enjoy the odd nibble. When matey starts chomping on that thing like it’s a corn on a cob and you’re just sitting there thinking…I gotta put lip coat on that shit tomorrow and man is that going to sting!
Underwire Appearing From Nowhere
Oh hey old bra.
Oh hey underwire popping out the side and straight into your breast.
Oh hey paranoia that you might end up without a boob by the end of the day.
Come on we’ve all had it. Especially the larger thighed amongst us. You wear an older pair of tights, the elastic isn’t what it was and low and behold your dear old legs rub together like a pair of bastards. Ever so red. Ever, ever so sore.
Roll on the ritual humiliation of having to Sudocream them bad boys like you’ve got nappy rash!
When you leave a hairband on over night. And you wake up with a trench in your arm. And a female irrational fear that you might loose your hand. Yeah. That.
Touching Of A Tender Boob
That sensitive time of the month…and someone goes for a grab of the boob. And as much as you don’t want to ruin the mood, you want to suckerpunch them in the head. Then fall into a heap on the floor.
That time of the month in general. When you are a rank, sweaty, bloated mess with a lower belly that feels like it’s having a knife run across it. LUSSSSHHH.
& last but by no means least.
As if the ripping of one’s hair and skin onto strips of paper isn’t agony enough, nobody quite prepares you for the hot shower afterwards, when you feel like you’re nether regions are going to explode. But above all that is the agony of having to have a conversation with the woman who is in between your legs with a lollystick and a hot pot of wax.
‘All the way back dear?’
‘Please…and why not just strip off the remainder of my pride whilst you’re there babe’