Let's cut to the end. I dyed all my pubic hair bright pink this week.
1) I make irrational decisions which have caused me unnecessary trouble in my life. This was a minor one. There are other ways to pass a Monday evening rather than pre-bleaching your muff to ABBA's 'Fernando' (my out-of-reach iTunes shuffle keeps screwing me over).
2) I asked a guy who I regularly sleep with about his preferences on what women do with their junk pompadour. I value his opinion on matters on personal upkeep, because y'know, he has sex with me. And he did say something that surprised me: as long as it was maintained, he'd quite like something there.
I've been having Hollywoods since before they were Hollywoods so here I am at 25 having never had much of a party going on down there. So, I thought, if I was going to do it (by "it" I mean have a lady bush) I was going make it brilliant and to do it properly*...
*not properly at all.
Bleach - a lot of bleach - and pink dye designed for your head. I know you're told explicitly not to use stuff for your scalp on your snatch, but I'm loose and fast with the rules. I recommend learning from my mistakes.
You know how tedious it is to hang about in foils while you get your highlights done? Now imagine that, except you're naked from the waist down. Once my hair was as blonde as it was going to go, I smothered myself in bright pink dye. And guess what? That stuff stains and stains hard. I ended with pink patches all over my stomach and thighs and a new resulting additional cost of having to replace my flatmate's face cloth.
A tub of exfoliator and a ruined sink later (let that mental image wash over you), I had everything I'd ever wanted: pasty skin and a pink jungle. Result.
Is this a weird thing to do?
No. Remember the first rule of woman club: do whatever you like, all the time! If, like me, you wanted pink hair without looking like a teenager, there's no better way to show you're an adult. An adult with too much time on their hands.
I was nearly an hour and a half into this self-appointed project when I decided I couldn't be bothered cutting my hair into a heart as I'd planned, so I found a dress in my dirty washing that matched it really beautifully and ordered a curry.
Later on, I showed off my handy work to the aforementioned man who likes a full snatch. Now, this is the important thing to learn for when you do it (because why wouldn't you?) - I could've done the reveal a bit sexier. Own the decisions you've made for your body. Be fabulous. Don't just get naked, stand up and point at it and say "Alright, big man. What do you think of my new whisker biscuit...?" Er, yep.