A great body hair experience story from Nell Frizell.

Weeks later, when we got back to Oxford, I decided to have another go at my legs. Starting below my knee this time. I tackled the shire horse-like fringe of hair above my ankle and slowly worked my way up a bruised and sun-browned shin until I came to my knee. I stopped. Surely nobody shaved their knees. That was insane. Like trying to paint a butterfly hinge or vacuum a U-bend. No, I wasn’t going to shave my knees.

From The Guardian.