At the conclusion of a hairy conversation I recently had with my friend, Molly, I walked away from the day’s revelations torn between being upset that women actually do what I’d just learned they did and bubbling up with unfettered joy that I now had permission to follow suit if I so chose.

Molly was sharing with me her surprise at seeing a mutual female acquaintance proudly unfurl a dainty leg from beneath the hem of her skirt. Our friend now displayed pelts on both limbs. Vidal Sassoon would be proud.

I was riveted by our friend’s commune with nature. Evidently, she never shaves during the winter. It’s the main reason why she loves the cold weather.

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No shorts, no shaving.

And no going out in public for me anytime soon.

After I regained my ability to speak, questions came tumbling out, and she patiently answered them all.

Me: “But what about your husband?”
Her: “After a couple of weeks, he gets used to it.”

Me: “Does he complain that they make a lot of noise?”
Her: “Nope. He hasn’t complained about the noise yet.”

Me:  “What if you were in a car wreck?”
Her: “Then I guess the doctors would see two hairy legs laid out on a gurney.”

I had to shut the conversation down after that. She was too pragmatic about the entire concept. As tempting as the idea sounds, I can't grow fur just because it’s winter. Finding an errant leg hair worries me enough. I can't imagine growing thousands of them on purpose.

I can say with all confidence, I will remain a shaver during all seasons of the year. Surprisingly, several of my friends have emerged from the woodwork to admit they kick back and forgo shaving during the winter. The total number of wildebeasts whom I can now claim as friends is astounding.

You girls know I’m picking, but those legs are really, really hairy. I'm just sayin.’

So I'd like to know:

If you choose to continue to shave all year long, why? If you choose to postpone shaving until the spring, why? No judgement ladies.

No judgement.