FN Blog - Seven heads are better than one!

Flawless, white underarms…just one of the many concerns that women have, and that men (lucky bastards) never have to think about! I’ve had long conversations with girl friends regarding different methods—laser treatments, waxing, toners—to achieve those gloriously fuzz-free ‘pits.

Effective ang tawas!

It was exactly because of this that I had a dilemma a few years back. See, I was in a dance concert wherein I had to perform two dances back-to-back, which required a costume change. Dance 1 required me to wear a long-sleeved black sweater-thing that left black himulhol all over my body…including—yup, you guessed it—on my underarms! Not a big deal, if only Dance 2 didn’t require me to wear a sleeveless top. And there was not enough time in between dances to change AND wash up. “Eyew, the audience might think I didn’t shave!” I moaned. So what was a girl to do?

It seemed like a good idea at the start…

“Maglagay ka ng Leukoplast sa kili-kili mo!” volunteered a fellow dancer (itago na lang natin sa pangalang RR Herrera!). He went on to say that I could just rip off the plaster as I change for my next dance. Ah, a solution!

Or so I thought.

Right after Dance 1, I rushed backstage for my quick costume change, then rushed onto the stage for Dance 2. As I was about to raise my arms for one of the steps, it dawned on me that I still had Leukoplast on my kili-kili! I panicked and danced off the stage, leaving my partner to carry on by himself (sorry, Ros…). There I was at stage right, frantically trying to peel the plaster off my underarms. And if you’ve ever stuck Leukoplast onto yourself, you’d know that it ain’t an easy task to remove it…so not-easy, in fact, that I had three girls peering intently at my underarms, using their nails to scrape the plaster off of me! “Ayaw talaga,” one said, dejectedly. (Or at least she feigned dejection. Inside, she must have been dying of laughter.) In what was probably a burst of adrenaline, I shooed everyone away and tore the plaster off my ‘pits in one, well, two hard tugs. Then I ran back onto the stage and continued dancing.

“Honey, do you think I should shave?”

After the performance, I discovered that I had a faint black, rectangular outline on both my armpits, where the Leukoplast had been. I wondered what the audience must have thought. I hunted down RR and went off on him for coming up with such a brilliant idea. “Sabi ko lagyan mo ng Leukoplast ‘yung damit mo…” he said defensively. And so, RR, it isn’t for Agila or Eh Kasi Bata that you shall remain forever etched in my memory.