I’m fond of words and still find it quite exciting when I come across a new one that sounds good. I’m a bit like that sappy guy in West Side Story.
“Maria, Maria, I’ll never stop saying Maria….” Someone should have told him “Look mate, it’s never going to work…”
My word yesterday was vajazzle. Dylan Moran mentioned it in a comedy show (I hope he’s going to become the new Dave Allen) and I thought I’d use it but wanted to check it out…just in case… Mumsie, a respectable woman who never swore, occasionally shocked listeners with her use of the word ‘twat’ because she had no idea of the connotations. Mind you, she thought Marlyn Monroe had been bumped off by the MFI so if you knew her, you’d probably forgive her.
So there I was thinking vajazzle was a general bling, jewellery of the ankle, the wrist, the neckline, perhaps even some sparkly stuff in the tummy button but it turns out to be very specific – the bejewelling of a lady’s hospital parts.
Well, well. I have to admit to huge and uncontrolled astonishment and amusement. It made my day, to be honest, to think there are girls and women out there actually spending time prinking their privates in order to have them sparkling and flashing like a Woolworths Christmas tree.
I wondered how on earth I’d manage. I never really got on with contact lenses. I got through a week’s worth in two days, what with the dropping, the tearings, the getting stuck in the eye in the wrong place, the tears.
Vajazzling would be even more of a challenge. There’d be waxing and screaming. There’d be unnatural leg positions and it would be bound to involve a number of mirrors. There would be decisions on spectacles – on or off? Off wouldn’t work. I’m short-sighted so out of focus from the decolletage down. I’d have to use binoculars. Then there are the little tiny sparkly things and the glue and the tweezers. It would be so much easier if it was all fuzzy felt but even then, it was always a job to get the little horses looking convincing….
Surely vajazzling can’t be for the benefit pf men? The jewellery would just get in the way or fall off or worse…
“Oi! Wayne! I’m missing my favourite Aztec white crystal flower curve! Wotcha dun, swallowed it or sumfink?”
I really cannot envisage a gent with a H&S background getting all hot and bothered with a heavily vajazzled partner. He would surely just be visualising the lengthy risk assessment and percentage chance of dying of choking rather than get engaged in intensive admiration of her heavily beaded front bottom.
And if they are doing it for other women, surely something more comfy would be more welcome. Perhaps they could strategically place a nice cushion or two down there? I haven’t met a woman yet who doesn’t drool slightly over a nice cushion. John Lewis cushions are nothing but filthy cushion porn.
From the limited research I’ve done, though, the vajazzling seems to be aimed at men. It might be purely an Essex thing because it featured in some TV show called the ‘Only Way is Essex’ or ‘Slightly Less Interesting Kent’. I’m not sure. I don’t watch much TV but I would like to shake the hand of the person who coined ‘vajazzle.’ It’s a corker on a par with Sue Limb’s “bonking” and “bonkbusters” – it conveys meaning with a knowing smirk.
I happened to be having my nails done yesterday. So while Gee was busy with the Chicago Champagne Toast, I asked, nonchalently “Do you, by chance, offer vajazzling?”
She smiled a wary smile and said “Er no.. There’s not much call for that in Cheltenham but I could do… a Las Vegas wax…”
I had to ask what it was. I’m a beauty parlour virgin, after all (apart from the nails.. oh and the eyelashes but we don’t mention them.) It’s the removal of all hirsuite appendages leaving a strategically-placed strip. And the strip is decorated with sparkly things, said Gee.
“What? A bit like a runway?”
“You can have a runway if you want… People ask for all sorts of things.”
Wow. Glow-in-the-dark runway lights. Imagine! I love aiports and the runway lights are *just amazing.* I was starting to see how you could impress a bloke.
When when you got bored of the aeronauticals, you could try seasonal themes… some miniature autumnal leaves and berries for autumn….while Christmas must surely involve a jolly Santa-faced merkin with dangly Christmas trees and perhaps a cheeky robin peeping through the festive pines.
I can’t quite see it as a Womens’ Institute competition but it definitely has potential.
Talking to colleagues at work, they weren’t at all keen on the thought of vajazzling unless there were practical benefits.
“A little bejewelled note down there could come in handy,“ said one, thoughtfully.
“It would read ‘When you’ve finished, could you peel the potatoes for supper?’”
Runway clear for landing