Ode to Georgina: How we talk about women’s body hair

Georgina first appeared maybe two years ago. I was washing my face in my aunt’s bathroom when suddenly there she was, my chin hair. To say I was embarrassed would be the understatement of the century. I tried to ignore her at first, hoping it’d just go away , but that sadly wasn’t the case. Soon my parents noticed and when one of my relatives joked about me growing a beard I was mortified. But I was defiant, after all what had years of feminism taught me but to accept my body in its natural form and to denounce these patriarchal standards of beauty If I so chose. So I stuck it out, I didn’t pluck, wax or laser off. Georgina stayed and slowly she began to grow on me ( pun intended). I convinced myself that I’d accepted her and nothing anyone could say would make me cave That is until one faithful day. I remember I was in chem class and we were doing a lab and I’d leaned in to look at the sample in my test tube. My lab partner had leaned in as well to get a closer look. She then goes, “ you have a hair on your chin,” not maliciously, not disgusted just curious. I could’ve died just then, now the secret was out and Georgina had made herself known to everyone around. From then on it felt like everywhere I went, anyone I spoke too saw Georgina first, or zeroed in on her whenever we’d speak face to face. We had a love hate relationship her and I but I stuck it out because my internal feminist rhetoric would quickly scold any shame I built up. Why am I feeling ashamed of something that’s natural? But then Georgina got a roommate, Claire and I think that’s when I really snapped. I immediately ran to the bathroom and grabbed the nearest item, a pair of scissors ,snipping them both in one fell swoop. Well, more like several attempts in various awkward positions but nonetheless I could breathe again, my sense of normalcy had returned. My reaction to my chin hairs is not dissimilar to the general societal commentary surrounding women’s body hair. It seems that the consensus is that any hair below the brows is a no no. In a 2018 article for Glamour magazine Rachel Luxton writes, “ But we have to drop this idea that leaving body hair untouched is unattractive, dirty or shameful. We need to question why society has these expectations for women” So why is this our narrative ? When hair is something that grows naturally from every edifice with no care as to where it ends up being. Additionally, in pop culture more and more we’re seeing women embracing their body hair and proudly saying no to razors and wax strips. Just look at the #januhairy hashtag on Instagram, in which thousands of women embrace their body hair in its natural state throughout the month of January and the introduction in 2019 of the first women’s razor ad campaign to include actual body hair in its commercials. As a comparison, the first Gillette women’s razor ad was released to the public in 1915. That’s more than 100 years of women’s body hair being too severely stigmatized to appear in an ad for a product to remove body hair ! In an article by Man Repeller in June of 2018, four women talk about their experiences growing and learning to love their body hair! How great is that?! These women talk candidly about the internal conflict, public scrutiny and self love that come as a package deal when choosing to remain unshaven. This newfound acceptance is in stark contrast to a few years ago when pop culture possessed a more conservative stance . In an article by Bustle in 2016, Marlen Komar looks at vintage Shaving Ads and uses them to understand how they’ve shaped our standards for hair removal through equating having body hair with shame and loneliness.

And in a scene from Sex and The City , one of the main characters, Miranda, is chastised for letting herself go by allowing her pubic hair to grow out.

This surrounded by a narrative of Miranda unhappy with her marriage and experiencing a major low point in her life all contributes to this image of women with body hair as women in disarray, women who have let themselves go. And this is a common scenario, where the only time body hair is talked about is when we’re on the subject of removal and when having body hair is a seen as a sign of personal negligence. That’s not to say that there’s anything wrong with choosing to remove body hair or that that makes someone any less of a feminist, but at the end of the day it’s a choice that we as female identifying individuals should be allowed to make. This entire conversation about body hair and its varied reaction also says a lot about what we define the standards of being a women by. Being hairless is synonymous with being feminine in the same way that being hairy is synonymous with being masculine. But it really shouldn’t be this way. I felt less feminine with chin hair but again, who or what defines femininity but us. We define our own femininity based on who we are and what we value and our interests and our dislikes. So maybe I’ll let Georgina grow or maybe I’ll pluck her when she comes back.

Whichever I choose, the most important thing is that it's my choice. Your hairy sister ! - Saph What are your thoughts on body hair? Tell me things, teach me things, I’d love to know.