Originally published: January 14, 2014
verbinformal1. adorn the pubic area (of a woman) with crystals, glitter, or other decoration.
A friend got me a vajazzling kit for Christmas. It may seem like a weird thing to buy a friend, but she was curious about it. I was curious about it. Obviously, cupid had spoken. But not only did she want me to vajazzle myself, she wanted me to blog about it too. On the blog that my mom reads. At first I was hesitant to do it because this was my hooha we were discussing, but eventually curiosity and writers block won me over. So with nothing else to write about, I decided to vajazzle myself.
Vajazzling is not to be mistake with bedazzling. Vajazzling is like getting a Brazilian wax done and then it decides to go on a successful treasure hunt. While on meth. So it’s like getting a Brazilian wax combined with the shiny things from Black Beards Treasure. Where my black lady beard used to be. Honestly, that’s the best way that I can describe every vajazzled vagina that I have ever seen, and thanks to the internet, I’ve seen a lot of vajazzled vaginas.
Let me tell you, the idea of having a sparkly cooter really enthralled me. I’m completely mesmerized by the idea of having my own hidden shiny things. But I’m also turned off by the fact that I could have some perfectly amazing bling bling happening and I wouldn’t be able to show anyone. Well, I could show people, but I’m not sure how everyone would feel about me running around, crotch first, demanding that they look at my bejewel lady bits.
So Saturday night I settled down with my vajazzling kit that I was gifted and I had five shiny choices that I could press onto my va-jay-jay. There was a star, a heart, a lightning bolt, a top hat, and two foot prints. My immediate thought was to Harry Potter my hoo-ha, because who doesn’t want their downtown to be magical? But I also thought that having a top hat down there would make me feel like one dapper lady. Except…What if this first time turned out poorly because I messed up? I better use the lame heart.
Lame, but still cute and shiny, heart in hand I started stripping down to sticker myself so I could make jokes about my snatch being a lost treasure or telling people my crotch is where the lost fallen stars go to die. I was clean, I was shaved and…
I have skin allergies.
Thank the vajazzling gods that I remembered my skin allergies that I can only describe as corrosive and vicious. If I put the wrong thing on my skin, I blister, I peel, and then I basically look like my skin is either melting off, or I look like Goldmember as I peel layers and chunks of my skin from my person. I’m not exactly sure what I’m allergic to, so when it comes to new products I always do a skin test. Which means I use that product on a patch of skin that I can clean quickly and no one will notice that it’s melting off because I pissed it off.
In short: I was allergic to the glue on my vajazzling sticker. I carefully placed the jeweled heart on my inner thigh and I waited. At first there was nothing. Then nothing. And still nothing. But then my skin started to tingle.
Maybe the glue from the sticker was just drying?
There was burning. The tingles turned into pins and needles. The pins and needles felt like they had been dipped in lava.
Oh god, there was burning.
Then I was racing into the bathroom to frantically peel this sticker off and scrub my thigh like a washer lady of the olden days was scrubbing skid marks out on a washboard. But then the sticky stuff got on my fingers so I was trying not to scream while I did my best to get all of the glue off without actually touching the glue or spreading it around.
Then when it was all said and done and I had raw fingertips and a heart shaped blister forming, all I could do was be thankful. The literal only thing I could do was thank the vajazzling gods that I remembered my skin allergies and did a skin test first. Otherwise I would have weird welts on my cooter instead of my thigh.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I had fun with vajazzling.