I have PCOS, so have had some since I was about 26 and a nasty, painful spot turned out to contain a four inch long, flat and jet black monstrosity curled up inside, rooted somewhere near to my sodding jawbone, going by the way I could feel the cunting thing unravel. Roll on 20 years and I've lost count of money spent on useless electrolysis, waxing, laser removal and in salons run by lovely Iranian/Indian ladies ripping the bastarding things out with smiles on their faces as the tears roll down mine.
I still visit the lovely ladies for eyebrow threading, but I decided I'd had enough of the scarlet face --and wanting to hide from everybody in the days leading up to it being long enough for waxing, rather than threading now I could make a fair attempt at a goatee without tache. I now use DP's Philips shaver for under a minute a day, which deals with chin, upper lip, neck, jawline and the bit you can't see just in front of your ears. My skin is far happier for it.
In all that time, I have had one teenager who was an objectionable little shit at the best of times out of literally thousands mention it. And he promptly got slapped around the head by the kids he was with and told to shut the fuck up.
I wouldn't have a fucking clue about the colour of my pubes, though. There's some advantages to being a fat bastard - and if DP's in close enough contact to notice either that or nipple hair, he's got no business being so ungrateful as to mention either.