All you women asked for them, all us men bought them for you in December of 1988. As promised in an earlier post, this is my story about the Epilady. I’m betting it is quite similar to many others.
Sometime in the fall of ’88 the below commercial was constantly on TV. I’m sure it would have been on You Tube videos and banner ads if there had been an Interweb back then, but it was just TV. Take a look.
You done? Pretty sultry huh? Just about every woman who saw that commercial thought they’d received the answer to life, the universe, and everything; or at least a miracle product that would keep them from having to shave their legs. This marvel of modern technology quickly went on their Christmas lists and we husbands and boyfriends trotted down to Macy’s (no Amazon back then either!) to get them for you and place them under the tree.
I was one of those husbands, newly married to my first wife. Huh? First wife? How many have I had? This is kind of off the subject isn’t it? OK, OK, I’ve had three. Definitely fodder for other stories, but let’s get back on topic. She HAD to have one of these! Not a problem. Macy’s was in the mall right next to Waldenbooks where I liked to hang out. Just a short hop over and before you knew it her soon to be best friend was wrapped (I paid someone, world’s worst gift wrapper here) and under the tree.
So the magical day came when we unwrapped our gifts and she was all giddy to see her very own Epilady with it’s leather bag carry case. She blew through her other presents, some of which I thought were much better, just so she could hurry up and go try it out. Off to the bathroom she went.
I was in the kitchen in our small one bedroom apartment, poking around at the turkey cooking in the oven and wondering if I would get worms from sampling it too soon. Then I heard …. MOTHER FUCKER! At first I thought I got caught messing with the turkey, but then realized she was still in the bathroom. I rushed in to find this…
Me: What’s wrong???
Her: This hurts like hell!
M: Oh it can’t be that bad.
H: It pulls the hair out by the root!
M: Well, yea, that’s what it says it does.
H: It said GENTLY removes it. Not violently grabs and rips!
M: You’re a wuss. Here, let me try it.
And that was the last time the Epilady was ever used in our house. We could have returned it but she insisted that she would get used to it one day. That day never came. As a matter of fact, I ended up throwing it away and using the leather bag to store nuts and bolts.
The Epilady company sure got one over on us that year. I’m pretty sure they didn’t sell so well after the Christmas season of ’88. Although I heard they still made a lot of money selling them to various governments (not us, we went with waterboarding) as torture devices.
So ladies, admit it, who else fell for this? Men, also admit it, who else called their lady a wuss and tried it on their self, only to shed an involuntary tear?
P.S. I know there are newer versions of Eiplady out there but they are kittens compared to the beast of ’88.