I don’t know if you creatures know this- but I have a Suggestion Page and Facebook Page where I shamelessly steal your ideas and send you a .05 cent CCL tattoo in exchange. This week’s fad comes from the brilliant minds of many; Laura “Affianced” Stringbean, Jenn Warden of My Heart, and Talia the Certified NYC Faddist, to name a few. These Candy Curious comrades can be thanked for my dive into the lifestyle that is Candy Pits.
More commonly known as the Dyed Armpit Hair Trend, Candy Pits first broke out onto the scene in late 2014, when Roxie Hunt decided to dye a green haired lady’s armpits to match her head. News continued to pick up on this trend all the way to last month’s NY Times article on the trend. These pits were on FIRE. Even Queen Miley approved.
We’ve passed fad and entered into movement territory. I’m like anyone else when it comes to new things- my first reaction to Candy Pits was “kewl 4 them, naht 4 me.” I’m not trying to jump on any movement wagon that I’m not adept to explain to the common fad-enthusiast! What if some one, god forbid, thought I was one of the “bra-burning feminist“?! I NEED bras because of my lady shape!!!
I ignored the suggestions as long as I could; but after I found myself 2 weeks deep into an I-forgot-to-shave hole, what excuse did I have? I had the pits, all I needed was the candy.
All the articles I read to prep myself for the Change had one big suggestion in common: the more hair, the better. 2 weeks’ buds were not going to cut it. I sat back, and let those puppies bark for another month before I even looked at colors.
Armed with the pits of a teen boy, I grabbed a lovely assistant and headed to the Melrose Manic Panic Style Asylum to pick up my weapons of feminine rage.
A good friend once told me some wise advice: she said, “Carly, armpits that are dyed pink look like vaginas” and it was with this poetry in mind that I landed on Atomic Turquoise as my poison.
The popular aforementioned Roxie Hunt DIY blog served as my bible as we got to pitting. We threw on some gloves to protect our selves from catching bra-burnings, and lubed up my pits with bleach.
Here’s the part where I show you lots of pictures of a woman with long armpit hair. I know, you weren’t expecting this, so I just wanted to warrrnnnn you: if you do not wish to see a woman (namely, THIS woman) with her armpit hair a-blazin, please do not read beyond this point.
Phew! Now that’s out of the way, here we go!
After standing with my arms over my head (and taking some sick over head selfies- my armpit hair is the cutest!) for 20 minutes. We decided I was golden enough to begin dying. I slathered the Atomic Turquoise on and hung out like a kewl-kid for another 20. If you’re doing this at home, I would suggest bleaching for longer, until the hair is virtually white.
The deed was done and I was ready to go out into the world…just not the office, or like, out of the house at all. Why was I feeling so self conscious?! Surely there were Pit Hounds out there who would find my ocean of hair attractive!
I found myself needing to dive into the history of shaving and the root of my pit shame. TURNS OUT American women had no need to shave their under arms until around 1915- because no one ever saw them! In fact, armpits where quite a scandalous area (and word!) because of their close proximity to **whispers** bbrrreaaasssttttttts. Then came along the sleeveless dress, and women were encouraged (by Harper’s Bazaar!) to get rid of any unsightly hair before going out in public pits-first.
Hm, it oddly disturbed me that Harper’s Bazaar, a magazine too big and recipe-less to ever catch my eye, has dictated my shower habits for the last 15 years! How could it be that shaving your armpits was modernized by the least flattering dress trend of all time?
WELL WELL! Perhaps the trend of shaving your armpit hair is as fleeting as using urine to whiten your teeth! The game had been changed, and I was ready to go in the world Candy Proud!
I threw on my cutest, whitest tank, and took to the streets. Unfortunately the streets were incredibly hot, and the blue was not staying put. It took about three rounds of scrubbing myself raw in the shower to remove all of the excess dye from my skin.
Once the excess dye was out, I felt free as a mermaid showing off to sexless sailors. I was flaunting all over the place. Never had I voluntarily worn so many sleeveless garments in my life!
If I had thought people’s reactions to my undyed armpit hair were strange (lots of “good for you”‘s) then the reactions to my Candy Pits were down right remarkable. Whenever I showed off my luscious locks, I got high fives and “coolios!!!”
I had taken a lazy hygienic lapse in shaving, and turned it in to a pastel colored rave. Not only was I saving on razors, I was also turning a typically frowned upon patch of hair and making it beautiful. Power seeped from my pores.
Speaking of pores, know what armpit hair is good for? Making you sweat less and smell less. I KNOW. It sounds insane. But once my hair got to a certain point, this typically deodorant-dependent Faddist found herself smelling post-shower sweet at the end of a long day. KRAZY! I guess it’s what armpit hair is FOR!!!
I can’t lie to you, once I bleached my under arms, that fun quality of not smelling at all quickly went away. It isn’t until now, 2 weeks post-bleach, that I’m getting that benefit back.
There were other drawbacks as well. As you may have guessed, many people do not find arm pit hair attractive. It is not that they are anti-feminists, and it is not that they are repressed puritans. Some people just don’t dig it! And guess what, that’s their prerogative. Turns out I dig it, and most people are cool with that.
Here I sit, with fading pits the color of algae, and I can’t wait to put on the gloves and dye them Atomic Turquoise again. Chances are, if you see me, I may have pit hair so long you could braid it. Would I keep dying them? Perhaps, if I could get back that sweet sweet no smell, no sweat chemistry. Only time will tell! I guess people are just going to do what they want to do, fuckkkkkkkkkkkk yes.