You guys… It’s mid August, here we are in late Summer and I find myself wondering how is it that I’m thirty-four-year-old woman and cannot, for the life of me, figure out how to successfully shave my knees? Does anyone else struggle with this? Honestly, it feels like I missed some sort of middle-school seminar on best knee shaving techniques, and I’m constantly wondering how every other leg shaving woman out there manages to accomplish a clean knee shave. Meanwhile I am here on the shaving struggle bus. Let me just clarify, that I’m not exactly self-concious about it… I mean in spite of my VERY BEST efforts I can’t seem to figure out how to successfully shave my knees, and life goes on. But what I AM self-concious/ embarassed about is the fact that I have been shaving my legs multiple times a week for over twenty years, and apparently practice does not make perfect.

I’m sure there are a myriad of contributing factors such as bathroom lighting, shower configuration, the dullness of a razor blade on any given day, I cannot seem to figure out how to successfully shave my knees, and I’m kind of baffled why not.

Every time I shave my legs I approach the knees from every imaginable angle. Bottom to top, top to bottom, in from the sides, bent knee, straight knee, and after going over each knee at least seventy-five times I typically end my leg shaving session feeling confident that this time, I’ve done it. Knee hair be gone, you are no match for my attention to detail and keen shaving skills. I go on with my day, falling into my getting ready routine, and most times don’t even think of double checking my work as I’m putting on my lotion. Most days I’m running late (well exactly on time with no room for error) and like clockwork, I get halfway down my driveway, coffee in hand, mere moments to get to the office or a meeting, and the morning sun catches my left knee and the inevitable patch of knee hair, and no time to run back to my razor.

Though I like to think I am not the only adult female with this particular shaving handicap, I feel as though I might be, because I’m the weirdo who ocasionally gets into a meeting and quickly scans the room looking at all the exposed kneecaps praying that I’ll discover that I’m not the only woman who cannot figure this out.  Please Please Please let someone else have a wisp of detectable hair.  Don’t let me be alone in this…  Don’t worry, I feel super weird about it/ I’m aware that most normal people are not scanning for detectable knee hair, but if I’m walking around  most days with visible tufts of knee fuzz I really hope I’m not alone.

The good news is that living in Oregon, there are plenty of un-shaven legs around, and I’m quite confident that the general public gives zero f*@#s about my shaving inaptitude, but then again, maybe there are other weirdos out there like me looking for confirmation… If so, I’m hoping my fuzzy knee caps bring them some sort of solace. If you are out there, we’re in this together.

For a while I kept a spare razor stashed in my car for those driveway emergencies. What’s a little razor burn amongst friends? But when I got my current vehicle, a razor never made its way over from the old one, and though I lament this at least once a week, still haven’t re-supplied. Something about it seems perhaps a little vain, and definitely high maintenance (though at this point, I’m blogging about shaving my legs, being perceived as high maintenance is the least of my worries) Mostly I’ve just resisgned myself that “this is just the way it is” and I keep on driving.

In preparation for an extended trip to California this Spring, I decided to wax my legs. No muss, no fuss, no sitting on shuttle bus and wishing I had a disposible razor in my handbag.  Overall I approach waxing the same way I do finding a doctor. Out of town is best. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about supporting local, in fact my job is basically promoting and supporting local businesses. That being said, I’m not interested in running into my doctors or my waxing specialists while teaching a yoga class, waiting in line for coffee or at the grocery store. Will I get an emergency eyebrow wax locally? Sure. But if I’m waxing any other part of my body, I leave the zip code. Obviously as I sit here blogging about body waxing, I’m not self-conscious about it, and it’s not a secret, but I’m already an awkward human, and there are just some interactions I don’t have the energy to engage in. Running into the person who does my bikini/facial hair/ leg wax out in the real world is at the top of that list.

As an introvert I don’t particularly enjoy engaging in small talk in most instances, but lets face it, you cannot make it through life without engaging in at least some small talk, (particularly in a public job, networking, and standing in line at brunch…) And you  simpy cannot avoid small talk with your hair stylist, dentist or waxer (though sometimes I think it would be preferable)  which is how I discovered during my very first bikini wax that my Esthetician was sorted into the Slytherin House. Let me just stop you right there, because I know you are probably wondering how in the hell the topic of Howgwarts Houses came up at a bikini wax in the first place. (but really why wouldn’t it?)  A) because I excel at nerdy conversations, B) this is just how my life tends to go and C) I was getting ready for a vacation to California that mostly consisted of laying poolside in Palm Springs, but also included one glorious day at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Of course this revelation came as no surprise, the person pouring hot wax and ripping out all my body hair identified as a Slytherin…. Go figure. (If you don’t know about the Harry Potter Houses by now, I can’t really help you) and now every time I find myself in the waiting room at the waxing salon I start muttering under my breath “Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin” (She is a perfectly nice person, and actually an excellent waxer, and I have seen her several times since.)

And actually, I went to her this spring when I opted to get my legs waxed. Under normal circumstances, I am fine with my inadequate knee shaving ability, but when attending a Social Media Conference and being surrounded by a thousand women with camera phones who were live-tweeting and instagraming every second of every day, I decided that a full leg wax was in order. And though it actually hurt more than I was expecting it to, I still think it was the best investment I made in prepping for that trip. Peace of mind, Slytherin Style. But a leg wax is an investment (time, money, and the grow out in-between is not for the faint of heart) so for 50 weeks out of the year I am left to my own devices of attempted knee hair removal.

As we are heading quickly towards Autumn and all the joys that come with it, crisp mornings, light sweaters and of course long pants, I’m looking forward to putting my knee shaving neurosis on the back burner. In the meantime, if you catch me staring intently at your knees in a meeting or at book club, or wherever please know that I’m not intenttionally being the weirdest person in the room, and also please tell me what the secret to shaving your knees is. Because some of us would really like to know, and apparently can’t figure it out.