Last night, I decided it was high time to augment my otherwise bland beauty regimen with a dose of adventure. Since it was cold and rainy out, I needed an indoor activity with a hint of danger. And if I could manage to find a money-saving routine in the process, all the better. So began the at-home waxing-kit challenge—or, as I like to call it, an hour of my life I’ll never get back.

Following the first kit’s instructions, I dipped what appeared to be a tongue depressor into a vat of molten honey and slathered it onto my ankle. After counting to three…then to three again, I ripped off the cloth paper as swiftly as I could—a process was painless but ultimately ineffective. Where was the baby-soft, sublimely bare skin I’d been promised? (After all, the model on the kit’s cover was grinning with freshly stripped satisfaction). Twenty minutes later, still unsuccessfully waxing just one ankle, I threw in the towel and moved on to the next kit—a set of clear, more manageable-looking plastic strips. But after applying one to my bikini line, waiting the suggested time, and—ouch!—tearing it off, I realized it wasn’t my error or any freak manufacturing defect; these kits simply didn’t deliver. Staring out onto the sticky mess that covered my living room, I made a mental note to self: Leave heavy-duty hair removal to the professionals, or better yet, keep shaving. —Jennifer Ciotta

Photo Credit: Maria Yfanti