The seriously gross parts of beauty regimes

Being a girl is so much fun sometimes. The daily creativity when it comes to our style, hair and make-up, the joy of shopping for new products and the bliss of absolutely nailing our winged eyeliner. Yep, being a girl is wonderful.

Being a girl is also totally gross. It can be vile, disgusting and gag-worthy in some cases, but we never talk about it that, do we?

Let’s start- it’ll be a bonding experience!

Fake tan removal
You can spend day after day in the shower scrubbing at your skin, but the crooks of your elbows and the back of your legs still make you look like a scaly orange swamp creature.

The bath is ringed with brown and orange gunge, you’ve worn out two shower puffs and you’ve had to call in the big guns- the industrial loofah, but STILL, remnants of tan remain on your skin. WHAT GIVES!
 

You finally emerge squeaky clean from the shower on the 6th day. You’re back to your classic milky self. Just in time for this weekend’s application! And so the cycle continues.

Hair removal
Blood, hair and rashes. Need we actually say more? This beauty regime is rife with grossness.

If you’re not trailing blood down your soaped up legs, you’re tentatively picking hair from a rusty razor because you forgot to stock up (admit it) or  you’re washing what looks like the remains of a yeti down your plughole while delicately gagging. And let’s not even get started on bikini line upkeep. All fours, anyone?
 

Nailed it! Oh, did you?
Why do you keep repainting your toenails in that glossy plum colour? Is it because you genuinely like it, or is it because your toenails are so yellow and discoloured that leaving them au naturel makes you throw up in your mouth just a little? Yeah, we thought so. Can’t kid a kidder.

Getting Shellac done makes us feel really pampered, and hell, we deserve a little pampering. Leaving the salon, your nails have never looked better.
 

Two weeks later, our nails look like we spent much of the week breaking rocks with our bare hands. Whatever happened to the promise of getting our shellac professionally removed we wonder, as we absentmindedly peel and flick our nails at the computer screen, much to our workmate’s disgust.
 

Now, don't we all feel a little closer to each other?