What follows is an experience I had with the Epilady Classic Shaver. I thought I would share it with you in a humorous manner, instead of ’’just the facts ma’am’’! Enjoy!
Things happen to me that would never happen to another human being.
I had always suspected this was true, but something happened to me a few years ago that proved this indisputably. An event so traumatic, that it has taken me ten years to be able to tell my story.
The Epilady Razors came out several years ago. An electric razor, they were a sleek white design and had a metal coil at one end. When turned on this coil would vibrate extremely fast. The idea was that the coil would grasp the hairs on your legs, and the vibration would pull the hairs out by the roots.
I saw a commercial for Epilady on television for several months before Christmas. The smiling models made it look so easy! They would run the razor over their legs quickly, then show how smooth they were by running their hands over their legs and smiling even broader.
I wanted one. I didn’t just want one, I had to have one! Each time that commercial came on and one of my parents were in the room, I would spill the benefits of this wonderful invention. I would turn up the volume when it came on. I would complain about the shaving scars on my legs. I made sure in no uncertain terms that they understood that I really really wanted one of those glorious razors!
Christmas morning finally rolled around. I quickly upwrapped my gifts searching for the object of my desire. And as the wrapping paper flew from the box, my eyes lit up as I held the box in my hands. The box spouted the same wonderful benefits as the commercial did. ’’Soft and smooth legs’’, ’’The fast, easy and comfortable way to remove hair safely by the root’’, ’’Epilady slows hair growth’’, ’’Arms and legs remain soft and smooth for weeks’’. And it was MINE!
I quickly read the instructions and was quite disappointed to discover that I could not immediately use it. You had to have a week’s hair growth on your legs in order for the coils to be able to grab it. I silently cursed myself for having shaven only two days before. And I waited impatiently, each morning inspecting my legs carefully to see if the hair was long enough yet to use the razor. And finally, one morning, it was.
Sitting down on the padded railing of my water bed, I turned on the razor and smiling like the models on television had done, I placed it against my leg. The searing pain in my leg quickly turned my smile to confusion.
This hurt! And not only did it hurt, but each place a hair had been pulled out, a tiny red bump had appeared to replace it! What? They didn’t say anything about this on the commercials! I quickly reread the instructions and found something I had missed before.... ’’Some discomfort may occur with initial use. Discomfort will decrease with increased usage of this product.’’
Well at least that was a little good news. Undaunted, I bit my lower lip and grimacing, returned the razor to my skin. I was determined to use this razor that I had longed for. I managed to finish the right leg and began to work on the left, somewhat worried about the red whelps now completely covering my right leg.
Grimacing, I was working on my left leg when I lost my balance on the bed railing, and begin to slip. As I fell, for some reason I threw my hands up in the air. I don’t know if I was trying to catch myself or balance myself, but for whatever reason my hands went up.
The Epilady caught in my hair.
Those vibrating coils did exactly what they were designed to do. They wrapped themselves around my hair and wound itself it to my scalp.
I screamed. I pulled. I screamed some more. I could not free my hair from these vicious coils.
Finally my mother heard my cries and came to my rescue. She immediately turned to razor off (I was so panicked I had forgotten to do this) and being to try to untangle my hair from the coils.
She wasn’t even able to loosen it.
Calling for my father, he came into my room to see what he could do to help. He worked. He pulled. He twisted. He managed to loosen it a little so that it didn’t hurt as much, but he was not able to get this device from my hair. I am sure to this day that his failure was due in part to the maniacal laughter that was coming from him and my mother at the sight of me sitting on the floor with an electric razor dangling from my head!
Not to be beaten, he left and returned quickly with wire cutters and used these to cut the coils free from the razor itself. My precious razor was now scrap metal, and I was happy about it! I felt in some way, that I had gotten my revenge on it!
Now this was better, at least the weight of the razor wasn’t pulling on my hair anymore, but I still had the coils wound up to my scalp. My parents tried everything, but they could not free my hair. My mother approached me with scissors, but remembering the crooked bangs I had from age three to age ten, I refused to let her near me with those!
I ended up borrowing one of my father’s baseball caps to place on my head. The coil making a noticeable bulge underneath the cap, I drove myself to the beauty shop.
It is not possible to imagine the look on the beautician’s face as I took my cap off. Don’t even try. It’s impossible.
An hour and several inches of hair later, I was finally free.
I have never again returned to that beauty shop.
I have however, kept the remains of the Epilady razor. I use it as a reminder to myself whenever I see something new on TV that I simply have to have........