A Testimony of Manscaping

By Kellie Purcill

bikini emergency croppedA couple of months ago, a dear friend stood during the testimony meeting and stated clearly, vibrantly into the microphone “I am so grateful for my husband’s manscaping.” Nah, I though, she said LANDscaping, right? I glanced over to another friend, who was looking straight back at me, eyebrows raised, with the same question. Did she say MAN- or LAND-? Turns out, she DID say manscaping; and clarified that she was glad her husband didn’t manscape. She stood, smiled and shared her gratitude that her husband was “humble enough to stick to clean grooming styles”, and “not get into the whole vanity male beauty regime thing”.

Her testimony made me consider the changes I’d seen in male fashion styles and grooming, and what level of personal grooming and styling I appreciated in personages of the male variety. I grew up in an age, area and culture where a bloke smelt either of Brut 33, sweat, beer, the barbecued sausages and onions he was cooking, or an adaptive mix thereof.

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