Big Natural Bush

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Big Natural Bush



By
Emily McCombs ,
November 7th 2013



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The last time I had pubic hair in any measurable quantity was about the time I first started sprouting it. Blame porn, blame the sexualization of teenage girls, blame the expectation that women will be as smooth and hairless as Barbies from face to plasticized crotch, but I was not down with a hairy vag, ever.
And sort of like how I’ve long since forgotten that exact shade that grows naturally out of my head, after a decade and a half of shaving, I didn’t really remember what it was like to have a wild and untamed thatch of pubic hair. My preference for a hairless snatch is real, but I know from whence it came, and it’s got a lot more to do with a desire to fit into some sexy porno fantasy than it does any real benefits of depilation.
So in the interest of moving up and onward, I decided to give body hair the old college try. And then, about a week later, I freaked out and shaved it all off. Repeat this cycle several more times, before I finally managed to keep a little grass on the field without completely panicking. Turns out pubic hair for me is like nails on a chalkboard or the sight of blood to other people — I just cannot stand it.
Let me be perfectly clear: There is nothing inherently “gross” or “unclean” about body hair. The idea that women need to shave whilst men do not is a social construct designed to keep women too busy running a plastic razor over every inch of our bodies to have time for world-changing political action. That said, I fucking hated this experiment.
And of course, it took FOREVER to grow. That’s months of having to navigate a forest of steel wool pads and fishing tackle to get to my clitoris. I found I couldn’t stop playing with it — twirling it around my fingers while I worked (at home) or talked on the phone. How do those of you with a bush keep your hands out of there? It’s not like it even feels good, like the comparatively silken hair that sprouts from my legs.
Speaking of which, I decided that if I wasn’t going to shave my pubic hair, there was no real reason to shave my armpits or legs either. After a few weeks of this, I said to my boyfriend: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve stopped shaving–”
“No, just for an article…” Then, in the grand tradition of trouble-bound women everywhere, I decided to inquire further.
“What if it was forever? You’d have a problem with that?”
“Well, I wouldn’t really like it. I wouldn’t break up with you or anything. But people woud be like ‘So your girlfriend has hairy legs.’ I’d have to be like, ‘Yep, that’s her.'”
He truly doesn’t, despite my best efforts to get him to declare a preference. Nor has he ever tampered with the hair on my head — “That’s your business,” he’ll tell me when I inquire if he likes me better with shorter or longer hair, bangs or none. Amongst his many other good qualities, the man keeps his laws off my body.
So I was a little suprised but not offended to find that he does prefer smooth legs and armpits. For the record, he displayed no more or less sexual interest in me during the time in which my vagina began to resemble one of those aliens from Attack the Block .
Partly, having a full bush is just a big change for me — akin to drastically changing the style on my head after having it one way my whole life. My discomfort is magnified by the fact that it’s a style choice that is intimately connected to sex and my conception of my own sexuality.
Because on other people, I can see pubic hair as very hot. I adore how everyone in porn before the 80s was flabby, pale and covered in hair, as opposed to surgically altered, tanned, toned and hairless. But more innately, I have spent most of my life as a sexual being reflecting back what I thought would be most pleasing to the man/men in my life.
That means being a willing participant in any fantasy said men might have without consideration of my own interest, encouraging boyfriends to sleep with other women both with and without me, and giving head so enthusiastically you’d think I had a clitoris in my throat. Speaking of which, clock this interview snippet between Nora Ephron and Linda Lovelace in Esquire, shortly after the release of “Deep Throat.”
Ephron: ‘Why do you shave off your pubic hair in the film?’
Lovelace: ‘I always do. I like it.’
‘Well, I don’t know anyone who does that.’
Linda Lovelace had a future vagina! And like hers (read her heartbreaking memoir “Ordeal” if you want to feel suicidal), my story is one of childhood trauma and lack of sexual boundaries leading to an insecure woman who pretzels herself into the mold best masturbated to. Now I have improved considerably with the love of a good man, who saw through my kittenish ways. But this is why I have been shaving my pubic hair since I was 13 years old. This is why I find myself, a month into the experiment, searching “hairy” on Craigslist Casual Encounters just to read ads from men who prefer my new look.
But I wouldn’t tell you guys this stuff if I thought I was unique among women and that it was relevant only to me. These messages about what female sexuality should be are transmitted out to all of us. Some of us, depending on how inadequately we are protected from them and what we are taught explicitly and implicitly to believe about ourselves, absorb them more than others. And laying off the razor for a month isn’t going to undo that.
There’s this idea that those of us who have intentionally or unintentionally “opted in” to societal concepts of sex and beauty are somehow choosing the easier path, that resisting is going to “make for a much harder life,” as Jess put its in her choice feminism piece. But if that were true, porn stars and strippers would be the happiest people on Earth. Trying to compete in the world of “patriarchy-approved” activities is just as painful as rejecting them, I promise you that. It’s a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t system.
And this all turned out awfully serious for a piece about vagina styling, but along with leave-in conditioner and crumbs from my late-night “naked snacks,” my pubic hair is FULL OF ISSUES.
In the end, I don’t think it matters much how you wear your pubic hair, and I will be shaving mine off within seconds of hitting “save” on this post. What’s important is thinking about the reasons why we want our reproductive organs to to resemble the lunar surface, or why we don’t.
Oh, and let other people make those decisions for themselves without ridicule or judgment. That means no “Ewwww gross, pubez!!!!” and also, no insinuating that preferring a shaved look is akin preferring sex with children. I’m not a child, I’m an adult woman who shaves her pubic hair, and there is nothing child-like about my naked body.
I suppose it’s inevitable that the comments section will now become abuzz with pubic preferences, so let’s do this thing. What’s in your pants?
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Demi Moore's bush, or why big hair was all the rage in the 80's

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It is rare these days for modern relationships to just "happen". If you don't meet in College or at work there are less and less opportunities to connect with someone new outside of your social circle. My parents met in High School, and my grandparents married the person next door.
If you came of age in the 80's (as I did) you remember Bon Jovi, Whitesnake and all those "big hair" bands that made up style in popular music. My own mane was hair sprayed within inches of it's life, and while it wasn't the "braless, au naturel" feeling that was popular in the 70's, pubic grooming had yet to come into vogue.
Hanging out in women's locker rooms and on nude beaches you see lots of different sized and shaped bodies. You also see a great variety of pubic styles. Most these days are clean shaven, or come with a sexy racing stripe, but you very rarely get to see the "crazy bush" very often. Now Demi Moore's 80's picture (now made popular from David Tosh of Comedy Central) has me saying WOW now that's a bush, and is a great example of 80's full frontal nudity. 
My favourite comedians the Doo Wops (two Italians) do a great song called 'Crazy Bush" which is one of their funniest songs (in a group that won Just for laughs last year, so they know funny), and is worth checking out. I still giggle when I hear it.
Anyway, hats off to Demi. She's an outspoken nudist (and looks hot in the pictures, although I prefer the "grown up Demi") and is showing off her world class bush. Now for those who struggle to keep their bush from creeping down to their knees (and I understand the struggle) Demi's bush may be a shining example to throw away the Nair and let nature take over the jungle. Otherwise you might have an experience like the women below (and let me just say that the reason it is so funny is that it strikes close to home….). Enjoy. 
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: 'Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet.'
So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those 'cold wax' kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off.
No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ('Cold wax,' yeah…right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works!
OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me!
I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.
With my next wax strip I move north After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet.
Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself….RRRRIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!….OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!
Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP! Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything is spinning and spotted.
I think I may pass out…must stay conscious…must stay conscious. Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe…OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy – a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip!
Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX???
Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip…it's not! I touch. I am touching wax.
I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake…remember my foot is still propped upon the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.
Sealed shut! My butt is sealed shut. Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself 'Please don't let me get the urge to poop.
My head may pop off!' What can I do to melt the wax?
Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand, into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right???
I get in the tub – the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment – I sit.
Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub….in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.
So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cemented myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!
I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter. 'So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!'
There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me.  
She wants to know exactly where the wax is located,'Are we talking cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?'
She's laughing out loud by now…I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box.
YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night.
While we go through various solutions. I resort to trying to scrape the wax off with a razor .. Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!! By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace….the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax.
What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!! The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, but I really don't care. 'IT WORKS!!
It works !!' I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair….THE HAIR IS STILL THERE…….ALL OF IT! So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.
Next week I'm going to try hair color…… 
Demi’s bush, wow what to say probably the sexiest thing I’ve seen in years, I am constantly baffled by guys that obsess about women with little or no pubic hair, I think at best this is strange and at worse disturbing,why would I want a women that looks a pubescent child down below…no thanks
Fantastic bush, only wish more women would stop trying to look like Barrie dolls down there for their pervy boyfriends…
That is the most beautiful bush I’ve ever seen
Don’t forget:
Demi’s look is NATURE!
The “Barbies” (and the pervy guys, too!) of today are only the products of GILLETTE! Especially the American women believe every shit produced by an industry, who wants to get only YOUR best – your MONEY!
Have a nice day – and more NATURE in the future!
P.S.: Look to Julia Roberts – she REFUSES to shave her armpits, too! A WONDERFUL woman! Good for her body, bad for GILLETTE!
I LOVE Demi’s bush. I’m so sick of these shaved up wannabe 5 years old again, girls I could scream. Fortunately the bush is coming back into vogue. it’s too dammed expensive, prickly, and damaging to the skin to be depilitated like a child down below. There isn’t anything wrong with a bush, look at Bettie Page she had a VERY sexy one, which proves you don’t have to shave to be sexy!
I have a natural bush and im proud…….. just wish i could find find these so-called men that appreciate a bush on a woman
Hi Eliza~ I AM one such man. I’ll never forget my first re-entry into dating post-divorce and coming face-to-face, if you will, with a hairless, pre-pubescent looking crotch. Wasn’t I chagrined! I couldn’t figure out the sense of it. I was slightly lost and confused. I’m now 45 (38 at the time), and in all my years of “experience” (I was once a popular guy) and points of reference with women (from say, a girl-obsessed, horny pubescent 12-year old until that time at 38) I had NEVER once seen or heard of a woman shaving or even trimming the bush, save for the bathing suit “bikini” edges (which I understood). I had thought it some anomaly; A surprising exception. Didn’t take long to learn I was now the only exception (and far out of the times). I began investigating the matter and quickly learned (then experienced) that, unless 75+, every woman in America (save for the ex) was bald! I can say it was disappointing. This first hair-free woman I expereinced was 7 years my junior. We did ultimately date long-term, and to her credit she happily obliged me by growing a small bush out but, despite her gorgeously ideal face and body, her “hoo-ha” was decidedly very un-gorgeous to me without hair. I am heartened to know that there are sanely beautiful women, such as yourself, out there who, like me, love and appreciate “all-natural”. I’m still holding out hope that I will yet unexpectedly find HER- that woman who not only takes my breath away with her wit, charm, personality and mind, but also her unprompted, always been there, full bush… Ha! I will always remain a bush man. (The hairier the better!)
I like a little bush, like a run way or landing strip, girls today are like girl scouts clean shaving.
I too love the pubes. Hate the bald look. Terrible thing that happened in the 1990s. Pushed by porn I suppose. But please ladies look like a woman, not a little girl. It really drops the erection like a cold bath when you drop trow and there in all it’s glory is the bald cooche. Terrible terrible disappointment.
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