"The hair is the richest ornament of women." Martin Luther
This spring, I stopped shaving my armpits. This may come as no surprise to many of you who have tolerated my unshaved legs all these years. I have a history of feeling like I need to challenge this social norm. It all started when I was in 7th grade, and an older girl asked me why I don't shave my legs.It hadn't occurred to me that I needed to, and never seemed to make any sense once I started doing it.
I was told by a boy in high school that he would never date a girl who didn't shave her legs. I thought that was sad and shallow. Then, I noticed he was much less attractive than I'd previously thought.
It was the 80s and everyone knew that European women didn't shave. I saw a photo of a German supermodel that proved this was true. I was determined to be more European. I was a runner so I got outside a lot. In the summer the sun would bleach my leg hair, and I knew I looked a little bit like that German supermodel. If I shaved, it would come back dark and coarse, and my legs would be itchy all the time. Without the hair, my skin felt lifeless and numb
I had conversations with an older, more affluent peer about how her mom was bribing her to go to the salon to get her legs waxed. Her mother had had enough of her hairy legs. I'd never heard of waxing, but it sounded godawful. She was considering taking the bribe, because her mom was really making it worth it.
And then, in college I gave speeches about body hair in my communications 101 class. I recall I made some weak statements about hairless Egyptian priests being nutty and 3000 years later we're still acting crazy. I tended to think that I inspired other women to give up the razor blade. Lots of valid reasons were given in those days. It's a waste of resources. It's oppressive, compulsive and obsessive. It's nonsense. It objectifies women and is a construct of a male-run society. Then, I'd go home over breaks and my own mother would tell me how she had had enough of my hairy legs.
But I never realized fully why women shaved at all, except that society told them to and they agreed. Even now, after all these years of not having consistently shaved legs, I'm still not entirely at ease with it. I cover it up, I trim it back, I wish it wasn't so dark. But why? What is compelling me to agree with society?Then, this spring, I decided to grow my armpit hair, too. I've done this before, but I always kept it hidden. I've exposed myself, and now I suddenly get it. I know why women are pressured to go to such lengths to rid ourselves of our hair. The epiphany came to me in the form of a little boy who spied my armpits.
"Ew!" he said. "I saw your armpit! And it was HAIRY." His face was squished with disgust.
I said, "All women have hair under their arms. It's normal." Then, he pretended to punch me. And then, he pretended to shoot me. And then, he refused to speak to me any more.
After thinking about this a while, I realized on a deeper level than I had ever conceived before that this double-standard hair paradigm is really a bad deal for women. Women are not supposed to show the world through body hair that they are anything but pre-pubescent. And, if they expose any secondary sex characteristics that aren't acceptable, they are rejected, pressured to change, made to feel unattractive and even shamed or shunned, threatened, or battered. Body hair is considered a strictly masculine attribute, and only for "butch" women, even though every single healthy woman on the planet grows hair on their entire body, except for the palms of their hands and feet. Having hair follicles doesn't say anything about you, except that you're human and you have hormones like everyone else.
Unfortunately for those of you who can't stomach my hairy legs and my braidable pits, your disdain for the hair fuels my stubborn opinion that you're misguided. I will not tell anyone that they need to stop shaving. It's every individual's right to make these personal choices. I am going to keep fighting the voices in my head that want me to go along with the crowd, and correcting the real voices who are telling me I am wrong.
