Recently I was in NY, the ‘city that never sleeps’, living my best life, turning up excessively, spending money recklessly, making new friends & meeting with old ones – you know, the usual. The weather wasn’t great which really annoyed me considering I had to actually BUY an umbrella so I wouldn’t get swept away in a torrential storm while the UK was experiencing a glorious Easter weekend. But on the last day of my travels the sun came out, and it was here to stay. I was truly enjoying the vitamin D that day, soaking up the rays, but at the same time, it took me about 20 mins longer than usual to psych myself up to leave the apartment. Why? My legs weren’t shaved & I didn’t have any equipment to ‘fix’ this. I put the word ‘fix’ in ____ because when I was walking around in Brooklyn I got compliments on my legs rather than the side-looks I was anticipating.
I think many of us (women) have a weird relationship with our body hair. I welcomed body hair in my pre-teen years. I saw it as part of becoming a woman, and would often have a look under my arms when getting out the shower, thinking to myself “Oh yeah! Look at me! Soon I will be wearing a proper bra”. But about mid way through my teens that opinion changed, drastically. Bodily hair was no longer a private source of pride, but shame, to be plucked, waxed, and shaved away.
The History
For as much as a standard Buzzfeed article will have you thinking that the removal of female body hair is something which came about over the past few decades, this is actually not a new trend. In ancient Rome, Egypt and Mesopotamia, hair removal was a signifier of cleanliness and class for women. By the Elizabethan era, they were plucking most (or all) of their eyebrows off. It was even common for parents to rub walnut oil or cat poo, to prevent hair growth on the forehead of their daughters.
An anti-underarm hair ad was published in Harper’s Bazaar in 1915, which was known to have popularised the idea that armpit hair was shameful. By World War II, women began shaving their legs to make up for the short supply of nylon stockings, which meant they had to go without. In the Sixties, waxing strips were introduced, and by the Nineties, seven Brazilian sisters opened the J Sisters salon in New York, which brought us ‘the Brazilian’.
Today
I do believe that the deciding factors on whether bodily hair on women is socially acceptable lies in patriarchal realms. However, it seems to me that in everyday life, women are often upholding/reinforcing those standards. This recent photo of Willow Smith and Jada Pinket-Smith surfaced on and rocked social media for a couple of days. It provoked mass conversation around hygiene, choice, and aesthetics. “I don’t care, she needs to shave” to “It’s her body, her choice” comments circulated, which was all so fascinating to observe since the photo itself had nothing to do with body hair. No caption was attached which would suggest so. She isn’t wav-
ing both arms in the air. It was simply a selfie. What was even more interesting was that the majority of the discussion taking place was amongst women (which is weird considering the platform is filled with so much feminists debate).
Personally, where I stand in the debate is “why does it matter?” like it is her body. She’s not hurting anyone. I was also more swayed by arguments surrounding how women should reject the notion that body hair is better being absent due to unrealistic norms of a woman’s body being set through pornography. It also kind of disturbs me how a key biological factor in what it means to be an adult isn’t desired in adult sexual relations. Biologically speaking, a body with little/no hair is usually that of a child’s, so it’s quite weird that our society desires that look.
Similarly, despite research showing that 60% of women have had at least one health complication due to pubic hair removal, such as epidermal abrasion, skin irritation, or increased risk of infections and STIs, women continue to tell genealogists that hair removal makes them feel “cleaner and more hygienic”. Surveys show that women will spend apx $10,000 and the equivalent of over four months of their lives removing hair.
Lastly, keeping up with a public hair removal routine is hard work. The pain, the money, and just finding the time to do it. Do you know how many times I have changed an outfit because my underarms weren’t waxed? Many…
To win or to free?
But with these points aside, I feel like both sides of the pro/anti hair arguments are missing the point when it comes to progressing feminism. The point is not that all women should or should not remove their bodily hair. The point is giving women the autonomy to make the choice for themselves. The point is empowerment. It’s their body, their choice.
Although waxing/shaving seem like small matters in the feminist realm of issues, it helps to set a precedence for other matters. The ‘ideal’ body shape, the preferred weight, boob sagginess. It is telling women what the standard is to be acceptable. It tells women that there natural state isn’t good enough.
I think one of the most effective ways to give women autonomy over their bodies is to present diversity at its fullest. I would like to see more pictures like Willow Smith’s selfie. Without seeing such images on a more regular basis, a standard is set without any direct words spoken to women on what is and is not acceptable. Hair removal becomes something we have to do, a requirement. It is not an option to refuse — like teeth-cleaning, but without any of the health benefits. Beauty practices are indulgent and optional; hygiene practices are necessary and required. You don’t have to do a beauty practice; you do have to do something that is required to meet minimum standards, just to be normal. Once the shift to routine is complete, the fact that this is a demanding beauty practice becomes invisible.
If the goal of feminism is to make women equal in society, then the focus needs to be on the individual’s choice, and that choice should start with the body.
@CillaHope_
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