In the small shower stall of my hotel room in London, I was faced with a crisis each morning: How the hell was I supposed to shave my legs? I couldn't bend over to do it; there wasn't enough room. And there was no step on which I could prop my foot so that I could create a right angle with my leg, thus providing an easy shaving plane.
Sometimes I tried - not successfully - to bend my leg and put my foot on the shower wall, but it didn't take long before the wet wall would cause my foot to slip. That wasn't a good thing because every morning I stood in ankle-deep water while I showered. (Apparently, this was not considered a drain back-up by the hotel staff.)
What I finally came up with was my own variation of a Bird of Paradise yoga pose.
Except my leg wasn't straight. And my arms weren't bound. My posture wasn't good, either. Anyway, there I was, standing on one leg in ankle-deep water, draping the other leg over my left arm and shaving with my right hand. The morning acrobatics were an interesting way to begin a day of sightseeing. But it made me wonder how other women in London endure this morning ritual. Are all showers built the way my hotel's shower was? Or do local Londoners have palatial baths?
Why do any of us shave anyway? Funny, that question never entered my mind during each morning's shaving ordeal. If I'd skipped the procedure altogether, I wouldn't have twisted myslef into a pretzel in order to remove the hair from my legs. But I wouldn't have found this historical perspective on shaving, either: http://www.quikshave.com/timeline.htm. And I wouldn't have had a blog topic.