If Queen Camille is a pro at polishing legs, Kalindi prefers not to take the risk of stooping. Already she is blocking her back going down a sidewalk…
In my old rotten roommate, there was no washing machine. In good laziness, it was out of the question that I go down four floors to go to the laundromat.
So when I had the time and an extraordinary burst of motivation, I cleaned my clothes in the bathtub, burping Au Clair de la Lune.
For the sheets, it was a different story. Soaping duvet covers in a bathtub = crossing the Atlantic without arms or legs.
Suffice to say that I spent 6 months sleeping in disgusting sheets, which smelled of cigarettes and probably ass. In short, I'm a lazy. And in so many areas...
Yesterday, my colleague and friend Queen Camille wrote an article that divided the editorial staff.
The purpose of the internal split in the company? Leg washing.
Indeed, a Twitter poll revealed that 20% of respondents skipped over polishing legs.
https://twitter.com/Arpwel/status/1126594900055793671?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1126594900055793671&ref_url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.madmoizelle.com%2 Do-not-wash -legs-1007508
Once the article was published, a tsunami of astonishment, incomprehension and sometimes anger swept through the madmoiZelle and beyond forum.
Welcome to the Gate Leg Wash.
You may know if you read my columns my beautiful sturgeon, I can NOT keep my opinion to myself.
So I had to come and give my testimony, undoubtedly edifying, to put the ball back in the middle.
If Camille condemns (with great humor) those who do not consider it necessary to rub the lower body, I am personally convinced of the futility of this exercise.
No, I don't wash my legs. And I'm not ashamed of it. It's even the first thing I'll say to the next HR person who wants to recruit me.
Have you always wondered how to write a best selling thriller novel and FAST? 🧐 Today on the blog, @ZJCzupor debunk… https://t.co/N7hOTL5VA7
— Rogue Women Writers Tue Apr 13 22:30:01 +0000 2021
In truth, with all the shampoo we splash on the top of our heads and the tons of soaps we use to remove the smell of spoiled onions from our armpits...
There is enough cleaning material that trickles down our legs without having to spend 52 hours polishing them!
Furthermore, unless you've had a mud fight at Fort-Boyard, your calves are rarely covered in grime. They are often well sheltered in our jeans (or our harem pants, I do not judge). And then for ecology it's better.
And also…
But WHAT THE DAMN AM I TELLING PETS!
If I don't wash my legs, it's because I don't like bending over. There, it is said! My kneecaps have the flexibility of a bi-centenary baobab and my shower cubicle is tiny.
I'm not going to risk breaking my teeth on the tiles to polish my calves that don't show any signs of putrefaction yet!
Oim in the shower.
I see you coming, slanderous readers: YES I wash my feet. I wash them… with my feet.
My technique is to wait for the soap to run over it and make them overlap madly in a frantic movement.
I intertwine them to fit well between the toes then rinse everything with clear water as is customary for the rest of the body.
And presto, I'm clean as a whistle.
In reality, everyone does what they want.
You are free, sweet reader, to be a sponge freak who spends a quarter of an hour polishing her leg hair or to be a lazy woman who neglects her reeds.
As long as your legs don't smell like salmon trout...
Also read: Why perfumes don't smell the same on all skin types
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