April 2010
One thing first: I’m a waxing virgin. Aside from a few mishaps with birthday cakes, not a drop of wax has this body seen, so it was with some trepidation that I approached my first date with the hot liquid at Honeypot Wax Boutique. It’s only been open a few months but already garnered its fair share of positive reviews and Brazilian-enthusiasts, so here I was dispatched to put my body on the line and test the waters and mix metaphors.
The good news: Honeypot really does deserve the acclaim it’s been getting. The bad: due to my well-documented cowardice, I didn’t go the whole hog and get a Brazilian wax, but stuck to my genteel guns with a leg wax. My waxer (a great job title, if there was ever one) swiftly put my mind to rest regarding the pain factor, assuring me that it was nothing like as painful as most newbies imagine, just possibly a little uncomfortable.
She then instructed me to lie down and relax as she inspected my legs (always a hard time for a girl). What comforted me the most about the whole affair was when she pointed out two scars on my knee and ankle respectively and asked if they were recent developments and if they were still painful, explaining that they don’t touch just healed scars. It’s nice to know that someone with the responsibility of covering your skin in hot wax knows what she’s doing.
The waxing itself was uneventful, and after I’d got over the initial shock of having warm wax rolled onto my shins and then pulled off, I began to unwind a little. I still wouldn’t say it’s a relaxing way to spend an afternoon, having hair ripped out of your skin, but as banal as it sounds, it really isn’t that painful.
Honeypot also does a remarkable job of calming the senses with its predominantly pink décor, dim chandelier lighting and lovely scented wax. They use a strawberry wax for general waxing and a cherry wax for more sensitive areas – given how nice the strawberry smelt, I’m almost tempted to return to test out the cherry. Baby steps. Emma Chong