How’s that for an intro. “Hi, I’m Becca, and I’ve stopped shaving my legs.”

It’s nice to meet you too.

It started, as it does, on a long drive. We had embarked on a road trip, the view was boring, conversation had lulled … but we had internet. So I googled “why do women shave their legs” and fell down a rabbit hole. Turns out it was mostly to make a rich company richer: Gillette wanted to expand their market, and sleeveless fashions were coming into vogue. They launched a marketing scheme aimed at women and voila, it became the done thing to shave bits of the body (I’ve linked one article out of many … google only when you’ve got some spare time as it is fascinating reading). I fumed a bit at the fashion industry but left it at that-I don’t like the feel of prickly legs.

Then one day I really didn’t feel like wasting my ten minutes of hot water (we have a very old water heater and we don’t really feel like spending money on a new one as it still works) shaving, so I only shaved from the knees down. After a few days there were no pricklies left on my upper leg limbs and I began to contemplate ditching the whole habit altogether. After all, during the zombie apocalypse I doubt I’ll have time to shave (when I refer to the zombie apocalypse I am kidding …. mostly) or the energy to gather the necessary water. The icing on the cake was realizing I never bare skin above the ankle. It’s not a modesty thing, I just have always felt that skirts and shorts make me look funny. So why, exactly, am I shaving my legs?

I did ask the husband first if he would be ok with it. He said that he suspected this was one of those questions he couldn’t get right, but no, he didn’t care. So I made the announcement on Facebook (thereby, in effect, signing a blood contract) that I would no longer be shaving my legs. Many of my female friends came out of the shower, so to speak, to confess (or proudly proclaim) that they also had eschewed the razor in favor of a more natural look. Now I’ve only just started, today in fact, on the whole caboodle (i.e. the whole leg) so I’ll need to update everyone on the saga of my hairy legs in a couple weeks (can’t you just wait?). In the meantime, I’ll leave you with a list of how you’ll be transforming into a mega-minimalist (see what I did there?) by ditching the razor (but if you still want to shave your legs there is no judgement from me. You do you; there isn’t a minimalist police force waiting to tackle you for betrayal of the cause. If so we would already be tossed out).

1. Less $$. Razors are expensive (even if you use services like the Dollar Shave Club). Ditch the blades and watch your bank account grow (actually it probably won’t be that much, but over time small savings can add up).
2. Less time. Which means more time for living! And escaping the zombies! And standing under hot water!
3. Less space. I’ve never had much in the way of toiletries but I’ve traveled with people who do (which is fine, those things are important to them: you do you) and … eh. That means you have to keep track of it and lug it around and make room in your bathroom and move it so you can clean said bathroom … and who wants to spend any more time than absolutely necessary cleaning?
4. Less lotion, cream, band-aids … really this falls under less $$ but have you ever stopped to think of how many items are “necessary” to the proper shaving of bodily bits? And I’m not including the whole range of longer-lasting hair removal products (I have never used them) … soooo many things! Taking up space! Cluttering up the grocery bill!
5. But … you do you. I cannot say that enough. I don’t wear makeup but I have people I adore in my life that consider it necessary. I don’t like our big house because I also have to clean it but I have loved ones who’d like to up-size. It takes all sorts to make the world go round.

Until next time,

The sort-of minimalist