Pits. in The Napkin.

I recall a rather obstinate period where I decided I’d shave my armpits. I wanted to break with social norms. As well, prior to shaving, I thought my teenage boypits smelled REALLY BAD. No amount of soap could alleviate the stench of boyness, and if I ever used a washcloth, that washcloth WOULD SMELL LIKE BOYPIT.

I was, of course, convinced of my cause. Screw gender roles! I’m going to do what I “want” to do!

Then, after growing my pits out again after five years of shaving, I retconned and felt I should show solidarity with anyone who grew armpit hair. It felt hypocritical to shave my pits while supporting those that chose not to. (Nevermind that choice is choice.) I’d swear I expounded on how I smelled worse when I shave my pits.

(That is the point of this post.)

As I wore a nice dress for halloween, I waxed my pits last October. Naturally, being that it’s March, my pits have grown back out. And I’ve found myself increasingly annoyed with them. I found them unwieldly, long, difficult to dry, and. A reminder of my teenager years: I WAS AFRAID THEY SMELLED.

(Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m into scents. But there’s a huge difference between axillary scents and genital scents. …Nevermind that I’ve never smelled a bad armpit, especially with how paranoid EVERYBODY is today. I’ve also never smelled a bad pussy.)

So, I shaved my pits. I recalled my previous “observation” that shaving would make me smell worse. …What the hell did I base this observation on? I skipped showering yesterday and I still SMELL FINE. (Don’t worry, I’ll shower today, ha ha.) Mind you, I only wear deodorant to the gym.

I suppose it’s a long-winded way of saying that sometimes we will shift what supports our opinion depending on what our opinion is. If you’ve read this far, you KNOW what I’m talking about. As Homer Simpson once said, “Facts can be used to prove anything.”