Monday, January 12, 2009

The White Side of My Greek "Hair-itage"


So here I am, new to this whole blogging world due to the insistence of my sister. In response to her sad sob story about being dark and Greek amongst the melanin deprived girls that didn't have to shave until they were 20, I got to thinking! What about the white Greeks? I am Greek just like the rest of my family. I too have battled with the ethnic body hair crisis, only my battle is a unique one. I do not have the dark Greek olive skin to somewhat disguise my hair if I decide to be lazy and not shave. I have very light skin (we'll call it eggshell instead of pasty or pale). Ah yes, eggshell colored skin and DARK "features". While some have complimented my unique combination saying I look exotic or snow-white like (thanks), much too often there has been torment at my expense.

I can recall minding my own business at school trying to complete an assignment when one of my schoolmates began to pet my arms. "It's so soft!" she remarked, as if she was completely shocked that it wasn't coarse and wiry since it was so dark. Well, it didn't stop there, the rest of the class had to join in and I became the class pet. Needless to say nobody wanted to be my boyfriend that year. Well, except for one chubby buck-toothed kid that we so affectionately called "Bucky".

You tend to feel a little out of place as a Greek-American girl amongst all the other hairless kind. Especially when you discover that the other eight year old girls do not shave their legs. However, I could always find comfort from my family when I got home. My siblings loved to "help" me with my hair problem. One night I was running around the house, carefree, when my older, darker, and hairier sister told me she had a lotion she wanted to try on me. Now, keep in mind this was the pre-shaving era of my life, so I was like six. My white toothpick-like legs with a hearty blanket of Grecian hair that made my skin look not so white, can't you picture it? Well, being the naive six year old that I was I agreed to let her use me as her guinea pig, after all, it was only lotion! And she was being nice to me, this was turning out to be a fun night! She opened the bottle and immediately the stench almost made me run, but she convinced me to stay. The tingling on my skin concerned me, but I was told that it wasn't a problem. I did find it a little odd that it was put on so thick and she wouldn't let me rub it in. But I didn't object because I was getting treated so nicely! So I watched some t.v. for a while, not realizing that my brothers were now spectators of this event of the lotion. I looked down at my leg to notice that the hair was beginning to curl and look very odd. I was concerned so my sister finally informed me that it was just my hair dying.......DYING??!! I had hair on my body that was dying if not already dead?! Dead things all over my leg, death, scary, creepy, hairy death on my leg?! That's when the hysteria set it. It wasn't all bad though, I had a nice smooth hairless spot on my leg for about 5 weeks.

I don't get tormented so much for my hair anymore, the razor is my best friend. While I left my trademark arm hair in tact for many years I decided on a whim to see what my arms looked like without hair. White.

Tune in next time for more on the white subject, coming soon.






6 comments:

  1. No one was supposed to know that Cassoulet was a mean big (hairy) sister! :)
    I'm so happy you decided to join Blog Land! I can't wait for people to read your stuff.
    Love,
    Your Hairy Greek Big Sis

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  2. I'm totally fished in! And now that I find out you're Cassoulet-adjacent, I'm even more of a fan!

    Welcome to BloggyLand! (It's pretty casual - shaving optional.)

    :^) Anna

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  3. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOh...

    At least you two had each other to braid your arm hair! (hello, CC; my hairy, coffee-addicted, blogging, long-lost twin...)

    YES YES I TOTALLY GET THIS!!! I am Sicilian with just enough Cherokee Indian to claim it. There is beautiful olive skin running rampant through both sides of my family, and, I get the color of death. OH! And the dark, copious amounts of hair...did I mention the hair? I am the Abdominal Yetti...shaving since age 9, and reflecting the sun better than tin foil.

    I shaved my arms when I was pregnant because the hormones were telling me to, daring me to (and I was a monster I tell you). Like a mad scientist I cackled in the shower as I shaved my arms clean and clogged the bathroom drain. They were hair-free, and looked terrible. It looked like I had two halibuts hanging from my shoulders. I decided, for whatever reason, the hair was better. It was all back in about 4 days...

    Look forward to reading your blog and sharing some more ethnic angst! ;)

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  4. Haha! I love this post! Welcome to the blog world :)
    I feel your pain, I remember in 5th grade sitting next to the popular girl in my class and her legs were hairless and mine were covered in hair! A vivid memory and one that has made my razor my best friend :)

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  5. Thanks for all the comments, it has motivated me to continue my ethnic/eggshell colored tales!

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  6. Ha ha. Hello my eggshell colored friend. Came by way of your big sis.

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