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Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin

Cindy (center back row) and I share a beauty regimen.
Cindy (center back row) and I share a beauty regimen.
Published Aug. 20, 2015

I didn't think chin hairs were a blog-worthy topic until they scored a cameo in the latest season of "Orange is the New Black." The inmates were running and someone encouraged the character known as "black Cindy" to keep up the pace.

Cindy quipped: "Man, I pluck my chin hairs, ain't that enough upkeep? I got to run, too?"

For almost two decades I loathed the three recurring hairs that grow out of my chin every two months or so. In recent years, however, they have provided me with something few other things in life offer: complete satisfaction. But more on that later.

I well remember the day the hairs first appeared in my life. I was a naive 21-year-old watching a baseball game with a few friends. The setting sun hit my chin at exactly the right angle.

"Oh my God! Katherine has chin hair. There are three black hairs growing out of her chin," exclaimed my longtime friend Will Andrews, who was sitting next to me.

I used one hand to cover the evidence and the other to hit him as hard as I could.

"Oh my God," he continued, "She's going to walk into Belk's one day and say 'Can I have some panty hose please.' " He used a low, guttural voice for the latter.

(Belk's at the time was the premiere department store in my native North Carolina and still competes well with Nordstrom and Saks. Don't you dare compare it to Macy's or Dillard's.)

Despite Will's prediction, I haven't developed any other masculine traits. But I have been plucking those three stubborn hairs ever since.

There is nothing more annoying than suddenly feeling the trio once again protruding an eighth of a millimeter from my chin while I'm in the middle of a meeting, a dark movie theater or church. They are fingernails on a chalkboard.

As soon as possible, I race to my car, pull the tweezers from my pocketbook and stare intently into the visor mirror. I can find and pluck all three impostors in under a minute. At this point in the chin game, I always snare them on the first try. Almost instantly my chin is smooth and sleek and all is right with the world again.

As a mother of three children I have learned there is no other problem in my life that can be solved so easily or with such sheer satisfaction. With chin hairs, there's no wondering should I have done this or tried that. No fear. No waiting it out. No guilt.

I know Cindy and I aren't the only ones out there plucking. So if you too go through this beauty regimen, don't be ashamed. Be glad that you have ongoing opportunities to encounter a problem and completely fix it. (Just keep tweezers in every purse, desk drawer and glove compartment.)

And for God's sake, if you see someone who isn't aware of their own chin hair/opportunities give them a hand held magnifying mirror and some tweezers.

They will thank you, just as I thank Will Andrews.