Is Laser Hair Removal Even Worth It? An investigation.

Even though it feels like winter I know summer is upon us by the amount of swimsuits I've ordered online recently. Swimsuits always have me thinking about tanlines and hairlines which always gets me thinking about the ultimate form of hair removal: laser.

I have friends that have had laser hair removal and lived to tell about it so I figured why not give it a go. Plus it's 2018 so no one should be tasked with balancing work, life, love, and hair removal if you have the option not to. 

So naturally pay-day hit, I bought a six-pack and scheduled my first treatment. Here's how it went down:

Apparently I'm a "great candidate" because I have dark hair and skin that tans, never burns. And since this is Minnesota my skin hasn't seen the sun for many moons and I have no plans of sun exposure for > 6 weeks.

Each session is expected to zap 20% of the hair follicles so on Planet Perfect 5 treatments x 20% = silky smooth for good. 


Initial thoughts reading paperwork: Wow, I should have my lawyer here to review this contract with me. (A botched job can leave you with scarring, burning, infection etc...) 

I'm taken back to a treatment room that looks like a cross between a medi-spa and a dungeon (yes, there are situations where exposed-brick is not the most beautiful design element). My technician shows me the laser (I'm not a laser expert or anything but this one looks pretty harmless) and tells me to undress from the waist down. But I can leave my socks on. Score.



Jeez, I'm so nervous. And I've never chatted this much with a stranger. But I suppose, she is about to shoot lasers at me... I ask if I can have my phone out and she says yes but then hands me black-out eye protection. K. 

She applies cold gel to the treatment area and then starts with the laser. Says it's supposed to feel like a "rubber band sting". I've been waxing my eyebrows for half of my life and gave birth to my son without medication so I'm like positive I've got this and then HOLY HELL. 

Whatever she's doing feels like a rubber band sting, sure, if that rubber band is made of sandpaper and on fire. I've never felt anything like this. I've also never had a panic attack but I think I might be having one now. I'm seeing spots. My heart is beating so hard that I can feel it pulsating in my bellybutton. 


Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. 

We're halfway through the first half of the treatment (so 25% done?) and I beg her to stop. She assures me everyone feels this way. And I'm thinking in my head, "fuck that, I don't even mind shaving. What am I doing here. What even is life. Seriously, what am I doing here? This is the worst decision I have ever made. Ever."

I tell her I don't want to go on, at all. We have a moment. We talk it over, I decide to continue. She tells me I'm brave. Then says she personally stopped after her third session because she hates pain. WTF? Not helpful, Elizabeth.


We finish. 

I text my friend and she assures me it's the best investment ever. 

I book the next session. 



Stay tuned. 


Christine Hicks