Last Tuesday, I went for my customary 6-week wax. As I lay there, I got to thinking: you can pretty much get an organic version of most things these days. And you may be surprised to discover that hair removal is no exception.
I’ve been going to Priti Coles – of pritibodies.co.uk – for almost 10 years now, and I can’t imagine ever going to anyone else.
Why? Aside from the fact that I get to have a great chat (akin to counselling when I’m having a rough day), Priti uses a specialist natural wax which, to summarise, means:
- a longer re-growth time (6 weeks +)
- no painful, unsightly in-growing hairs
- far less painful than conventional wax
- the smoothest post-wax skin I’ve ever experienced, which lasts ages
- dramatic reduction in long-term re-growth, right from the first wax
I obviously don’t expect any of you from outside Leicestershire or the UK to hot-foot it all the way to the Midlands for a quick de-fuzz, but there are plenty – both male and female – who do.
Why? Because outside London, there are few therapists who are trained or licensed to use the special wax which Priti works with.
Take it from me, if you partake in any form of hair removal – even just the occasional lip and chin – Lycon is the brand to trust. You’ll never look back.
But I have to confess, it did take me a while to appreciate this, not least because of the circumstances in which I first came to lie on Priti’s couch.
To set the scene, at the time, I had a deep-seated fear of nakedness. This started when my mum’s cleaner caught me running starkers from the bathroom to my bedroom as a teenager. Ever since then, at the slightest suggestion of public disrobement, I’m off.
So, you can only begin to imagine my horror when I rolled up at Priti’s house for a reporting assignment, having been told by the fashion magazine’s editor that I was booked in for a straightforward leg wax. If only!
After a brief chat, Priti announces: “You just need to take off all your bottom half clothing”.
Unaware of my panic, she matter-of-factly continues: “What’s it to be? How about a Brazilian? Or maybe a Playboy? Or a Californian?”
“O.M.G”, was my first thought, followed swiftly by: “I’m going to kill my editor when I get back to the office”.
Over the years, in the name of journalism, I’ve been subjected to all sorts, like being chucked down a steep hill in a giant hamster ball and a near-death experience round Donington Race Track.
But this? Change-your-underwear scarier.
Lycon – made in Australia – has taken the sting out of intimate stream-lining for hundreds of A-listers the planet over since its introduction about two decades ago.
At (prices correct as of November 2013) £40 for an all-out Hollywood, it’s pretty good value when you consider that the stuff you’re being treated with works out at £25 per kilo, compared to around £4.50 for the same amount of run-of-the-mill stuff you get in high street salons. Plus, a repeat performance won’t be necessary for a good 6 weeks or more.
So, what else is different about it, you ask? She waxed, I yelled, job done, right?
Nope. Lycon is different because:
- It doesn’t remove a layer of skin at the same time. Instead, it works by “shrink-wrapping” each hair, allowing each one to be pulled out by the root, but without the eye-popping agony you’d expect.
- Not only does it pull out the entire hair root, but takes the shaft that the root grows in with it too. This means that before any hair can even think about making a re-appearance, it has to grow the shaft back first, which is why re-growth is so much slower than with conventional methods.
- Traditional waxes remove only about 30 per cent of hairs, compared to 90 per cent with Lycon. This guarantees your chosen target will remain hair-free for longer.
- You don’t have to allow your legs/elsewhere to adopt the Neanderthal look before having one of these waxes. You could have shaved as recently as three days before.
- The higher efficiency rate of Lycon means you’re extremely unlikely to get in-growing hairs. These are caused when hair becomes too weak to pierce through the top layer of skin and doubles back on itself, causing inflammation. This is more common with normal waxing when hair often snaps hair off half-way down the strand. (If you suffer with this, dab on some tea tree and then leave well alone).
- The wax – infused with soothing essential oils like rose and chamomile – is pasted on and allowed to dry until it forms a mass a bit like Play-Doh. Once dry, it is peeled off SLOWLY, hair sheath, roots and all.
- Because Lycon melts at a much lower temperature than ordinary wax, you won’t be left with sore, red skin.
So, back to my horror story…
Not being one to pass up a freebie, I compromised with a fetching pair of paper pants, hitched up as far as my nerve would allow. But given the number of years that Priti has been de-cluttering the nether regions of her regular clients, it’s fair to say she’s quite literally seen it all before.
“When I first started, people thought I was a pervert, but it’s a bit like being a doctor or a nurse. My clients are trusting me with something intimate,” she explains, while preparing my skin with a hospital-grade disinfectant, following up with a soothing apricot and jasmine oil to soften the skin.
Having had a nasty accident involving my bikini line and an epilator in my teens, I was apprehensive to say the least. (An epilator rips out hairs by the roots, but is only designed for flat, taut surfaces. If only I’d bothered to read the instructions first).
As Priti pulled away the first section of wax, it ranked a 4 out of 10 on my pain-o-meter, rather than the 20+ I’d steeled myself for. She presented me with the used wax and I could see scores of root bulbs embedded in it. Plus, my post-waxed skin wasn’t channelling the last-chicken-at-Sainsbury’s look.
This must come as a relief to the high number of regular male clients who visit Priti for the Full Monty and don’t even flinch.
So, how does Priti deal with seeing complete strangers in the buff, I ask her? Apparently, it’s not without its problems, as some expect rather more than a wax.
“One guy phoned up and thought I was offering a service with hot wax purely for masochistic purposes,” Priti recalls.
“The worst was a naturist, who asked me if I would be working in a naturist environment. I thought he meant in a log cabin in the middle of a forest, so I explained that I worked from home, on a new estate on the edge of the city. I was really embarrassed when he explained that he’d meant would I be naked for the procedure as well.
“You’ve got to laugh about these things, though, haven’t you?”
I wouldn’t say I had tears of laughter rolling down my face by the end of it all, but compared to the ravages of child birth, my debut wax was like a leisurely walk in the park in the sunshine, with a 99 Flake at the end of it.
All in all, I’m pleased to report that no journalists were harmed during the production of this article. Find somewhere to experience Lycon for yourself. You won’t regret it!