The history of underarm hair-removal
Well, we’ve certainly veered from the topic of body hair. You must be thinking, "Using the column to persecute spandex-stealers?! How dare she wield her power (?) and fame (?) for non-hair affiliated pursuits!"
Use the fields below to perform an advanced search of The Tufts Daily's archives. This will return articles, images, and multimedia relevant to your query.
8 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
Well, we’ve certainly veered from the topic of body hair. You must be thinking, "Using the column to persecute spandex-stealers?! How dare she wield her power (?) and fame (?) for non-hair affiliated pursuits!"
This column was only ever, sort of, about hair. But apologies, yet again, if you were expecting a gender theory to explain it all. So here it is: The Last Hairy Woman Column, And It’s Not About Hair (getting away with two headlines).
I’ve been feeling terrified about my future as a human being in “the real world” (enough to postpone graduation? Maybe). But I’d like to discuss my missing bathing suit.
Halloween sort of haunts me as a concept. It is fraught with outfit questions: When does sexy become too much? When does poking fun become offensive? When do we get to go home and take off these dumb ears?
I’ve recently acquired a new female friend.
I began freshman year with a mix of self-loathing, contempt, depression and a dash of delusion. I was working eight-hour shifts at a café nearby because I wanted to support myself, and thus felt that everyone else was childish and entitled. But we all know that game. I call it “cool, aloof girl that doesn't know how to express feelings.”