ABSTRACT
This research addresses the acquisition of meaning of body hair, giving a brief historic overview and concentrating on how personal and social relationships influence processes of signification. It focuses specifically on subjectivity and context to highlight how hairy bodies are placed inside or outside normativity. The normative hair, when cited as a proof of an unproblematic embodiment, for instance to demonstrate womanly or manly traits, appears to implicitly reinforce structural imbalances through representation. I have used semi-structured interviews and metaphors to investigate overt and symbolic meanings justifying practices. Given the wide amount of data that proved body hair as an effective methodological tool to address a multitude of topics, the results had to be selected and reported exclusively following the research aims. Parents and peers proved to be important for the socialisation into hair removal/reduction whether the participant was able to acknowledge it or not. Hair removal was acquired as a social skill through examples, policing or training but participants were only able to question it when awareness about the power issues involved was present. Alternative conceptions of body hair, typical of othered bodies and geographies, can expand the rigidity of beauty and attraction boundaries while remaining isolated and circumscribed examples. It is only by addressing the implicit structures and the distinctive imaginary behind body hair at all levels, especially through educational and legislative interventions, that body hair can lose its vital role in the representation of distinctive bodies.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ABSTRACT
LIST OF TABLES
1.0 BODY HAIR: A TRIVIAL MATTER?
2.0 FRAMING BODY HAIR KNOWLEDGE
2.1 A history of distinction
2.2 Previous research
2.2.1 Mapping body hair meanings
2.2.2 Practice rationale
2.2.3 Implications
2.3 Theoretical frames
2.3.1 Social constructionism
2.3.2 Habitus, taste, performativity
2.3.3 Context
3.0 METHODOLOGY
3.1 Standpoint theory, cultural constructionism and the sample
3.2 Methods and ethics: interviews and comparisons
3.3 Data interpretation: ethics and thematic analysis
4.0 DISSECTING BODY HAIR
4.1 The metaphoric hair
4.2 Socialisation, embodiment and emotional relationships
4.2.1 Deviant and collective persuasion
4.2.2 Trainers
4.3 Mapping the body
4.4 Hairy sexuality versus hairless competition
4.5 Data narratives and recommendations
5.0 CONCLUSION
BIBLIOGRAPHY
APPENDICES
LIST OF TABLES
TABLE 1 – Sample composition
TABLE 2 – Hairy and hairless metaphors
TABLE 3 – Human and animal comparisons
1.0 BODY HAIR: A TRIVIAL MATTER?
I first thought of body hair as a research topic when, reading an article on taking it all off for the coming season, I started reflecting on how I was socialised into hair removal. I soon realised that it was more interesting than the recurrent magazine articles would give out since it was taken for granted: there was something hegemonic about it. Body hair is hereby intended to include both body and facial hair with the exception of head hair. After researching relevant literature, I noticed that context had been placed somewhat in the background and that subjectivities were only discussed by American studies (see Fahs in chapter 2). The aim was therefore to specifically explore body hair cultural construction addressing contextual practices and subjectivities from a Western perspective while also investigating the process of persuasion into removal. Although it is a topic relevant to religion I have chosen to overlook this aspect since I believe it deserves a research of its own. The project started as a general exploration and it was later focused to fit the research aims. In order to explain current constructions, it was vital to look at how body hair had been historically constructed and what research had highlighted so far. I could then identify the best theoretical tools to reach the aims. The advantage of considering context and subjectivity is that, although results cannot be generalised, they address specificity and diversity and they can highlight alternative takes that may be applicable to practices. Exploring socialisation and history, on the other hand, is useful to understand the conscious and unconscious processes of construction of body hair.
2.0 FRAMING BODY HAIR KNOWLEDGE
As Foucault has indicated, the production of knowledge informs the production of discourses (1981). Body hair makes no exception: the contemporary Western discourses are the result of historical and geographical production of knowledge. In order to untangle body hair from its complex web of knowledge, agents and contexts this theoretical chapter is structured in three parts: a focused historical analysis, a review of previous research and an overview of useful theoretical tools.
2.1 A History of distinction
Body hair removal is not a recent practice, customs have changed over and over in history, with body hair being a shifting and distinctive visual signifier (Hansen 2007). For a better understanding of today’s practices I only deem relevant to highlight three moments of the cultural construction of body hair: ancient Greece, the late 19th century and the early 20th century. Ancient Greece, specifically Athens, provides an example of how hair removal was informed by a spatial distinction between genders (private/public) and a claim of civilisation. The public exposure of citizens’ shaven genitals was used as one of the punishments alternative to death for adulterers (Rubarth 2014). In contrast women, who were banned from citizenship and generally relegated into households (unless they were prostitutes or slaves), were removing their pubic hair because its display would be stigmatised as uncivilised (Sherrow 2006 cited in Hansen 2007). ‘So distasteful was the presence of body hair on women in ancient Greece, that Greek artists molded their statues of women without pubic hair’ (Sherrow 2006 cited in Hansen 2007:10). The mayor shift towards the modern Western conception of body hair seems to coincide with Darwin’s publication of ‘The descent of Man’. Comparing women’s and men’s amount of body hair, he justified women’s relative lack as functional to attract the best mate, implicitly reinforcing two concepts: beauty as a woman’s duty and compulsory heterosexuality (Rich 1980). Hairlessness-as-beauty, by becoming an evolutionary trait, marked once again the boundary between the civilised and the uncivilised (Hamlin 2011).
While the scientific beauty ideal measured femininity, sexuality and distinction from the animal realm, deviancy was enclosed in the fields of sub-humanity and pathology. Bearded women of colour were shown around in circuses as a living proof of ‘the missing link’ between the animal and the human [sic!] and dermatologists were allowed to problematise any perceived ‘excess’ of body hair on Western white women as masculine, unnatural, superfluous while also policing their heteronormativity and ladylike demeanour (Hamlin 2011). The medical discourse around ‘excess’ of hair was so persuasive that women actually underwent pain, disfiguration and even death (radiotherapy was at some point proposed as a ‘cure’) in order to match the hairless ideal set by the Darwinian discourse (Hamlin 2011). The scientific narrative proved to be functional to the beauty industry when from the early 20th century the focus shifted from body hair ‘excess’ to its visible presence being revealed by increasingly shorter and sleeveless clothing (Hansen 2007, Toerien and Wilkinson 2003). Women’s magazines and targeted advertisement, turned beauty and hairlessness into an attitude necessary to attract the right husband but most importantly to keep him (Ewen 1976 cited in Basow 1991), tacitly theorising mating as a lifelong competition whose outcomes depended on women’s behaviour. For men body hair remained largely unquestioned with the exception of the workplace where facial hair removal could signify ‘uniformity’, ‘mutual identity’, ‘conformity’ in order to transpire ‘stability’ (Synnott 1987:385).
2.2 Previous research
Body hair removal/reduction is not just a personal practice but it involves imagined audiences (Terry and Braun 2013) and the consequent assumption or knowledge about its positive or negative appraisal. Removers are also the audience of all sorts of media and of their culture and heritage. Research points to a significant variation in meanings according to gender (Synnott 1987, Toerien and Wilkinson 2003, Terry and Braun 2013), the area of the body/face (Toerien et al. 2005), the visibility (Basow and Braman 1998) and the colour (Synnott 1987). Body hair may also reinforce assumptions about gender, class (DeMaria and Berenson 2013), sexuality (Fahs 2011b), age (Synnott 1987), and ethnicity (Fahs and Delgado 2011) resulting in practices that tend to avoid multiple stigmatisation (Fahs 2011b). In order to explicate the multiple aspects highlighted by previous research, I will report it following a narrative of body geography, practices and implications.
2.2.1 Mapping body hair meanings
In general women indicated hairlessness as a sign of femininity and sexual attractiveness (Basow 1991) while men assigned masculinity, manliness, virility to hairiness (Synnott 1987, Toerien et al. 2005, Fahs 2011a, Terry and Braun 2013). A visibly hairy woman is thought to be a lesbian, manly, transgender, unhygienic, distasteful, angry, animal-like, uneducated, mentally instable (Basow 1991, Toerien and Wilkinson 2008, Fahs 2011a, Fahs 2011b, Fahs and Delgado 2011, Terry and Braun 2013).A hairless man can be thought to be gay, feminine, into sports (Fahs 2013). Facial hair is a very strong signifier of masculinity and maturity for men and as such it is opposed to both femininity and youth, making facial hair on women socially unacceptable (Synnott 1987, Hamlin 2011). Eyebrows, as long as they are shaped, are a symbol of beauty and neatness for women (Toerien et al. 2005) while no research I am aware of highlights their significance for men. A hairless armpit is often associated with femininity, neatness and hygiene for women (Toerien and Wilkinson 2008) while hair display is socially sanctioned (Toerien and Wilkinson 2003, Braun et al. 2013).
Hygiene seems to apply to men who reduce or remove it too (Terry and Braun 2013). Back hair, although often perceived to be unattractive by men and therefore removed (Martins et al. 2008) has not been, as far as I am aware, investigated in its meanings. Chest hair has shifted its significance with time. It was a clear sign of masculinity in the past, as shown in previous James Bond films where main actors had hairy chests but it is not such a clear symbol anymore with more and more men removing it (Terry and Braun 2013). Pubic hair in general is a liminal site between the public and private (Braun et al. 2013). For both women and men its removal is often linked with sensations of hygiene and perceived enhanced sexual attractiveness although women tend and are expected to engage in the practice far more than men (Braun et al. 2013).Leg hair is quite gendered and deviance is socially sanctioned. To women its removal signifies femininity, neatness and distinction from the animal realm (Basow and Braman 1998, Toerien et al. 2005). To men a hairy leg is a symbol of masculinity and some social policing is applied to them as well if they begin to remove it (Fahs 2013).
2.2.2 Practice rationale
Current practices are informed by beliefs about body hair. In a consumerist culture where marketing sells aspirational images beside the products to achieve it (Elliot 1998, Elliot and Wattanasuwan 1998), and where the body can be either an expendable capital or a source of stigma, the majority of women tend to remove all visible hair (Toerien and Wilkinson 2008). They do it both in order to avoid stigmatisation, stares, comments and to feel more attractive, confident, cleaner, neat and normal, their imagined audiences being an internalised male gaze (Toerien and Wilkinson 2008, Holland et al. 2004 cited in Terry and Braun). For men hairiness seems to be the norm with the exception of facial hair. Especially in the corporate world, men are pressurised to conform to a shaved look (Synnott 1987) and women seem to prefer them shaven too (Basow and Braman 1998). Although it is becoming more acceptable and even desirable for men to remove their body hair, removers can still face homophobia and judgements on their masculinity depending on their audience (Fahs 2013). With metrosexuality and manscaping possibly influencing new trends based on the aesthetics of removal, especially for younger generations (Terry and Braun 2013, Martins et al. 2008, Fahs 2013), the gaze is still male as they tend to worry mainly about other men’s reactions (Fahs 2013).
2.2.3 Implications
Both women and men generally start the removal/reducing around puberty. For women it is mostly other women friends and family members who initiate them to the practice (Braun et al. 2013, Terry and Braun 2013) but once started they are influenced by a wide variety of contexts and relational moments where their hairlessness is expected. Women appear to have internalised the hairless norm as one of the social norms pertaining their body in order to feel in control, managing personal anxieties and social assumptions. There appears to be a correlation between conformity to hairlessness, bodily dissatisfaction and other body altering practices (Fahs 2011b). Men also face pressures to conform but deviancy does not seem to hold the same amount of negative perceptions as with women. The changing masculine ideals may drive men towards an increase in hair removal but it is still unclear how widespread or persistent these new trends are (Terry and Braun 2013, Fahs 2013).
2.3 Theoretical frames
Previous research has been invaluable in getting the wider picture about body hair. In order to explore body hair in detail, I will be building on it to investigate hair removal as a learnt and internalised behaviour and at how one’s embodied subjectivity interacts with social interaction to produce practices that mirror power relations in specific contexts. In order to do so I will combine social constructionism with Bourdieu’s habitus and taste, Butler’s performativity and Lefebvre’s contextual theories.
2.3.1 Social constructionism
Social constructionism is generally used as a methodological instrument locating the construction of meaning in language (Edley 2001). It also analyses the perception of reality since ‘Too often the language of objective reality is used as a means of generating hierarchies of inclusion and exclusion’ (Gergen 2009:41). As such it can be a useful theoretical tool to interrogate the perception of body hair and the structural imbalances through language. Perceptions get internalised as values and are apprehended through various stages of socialisation entailing the micro of significant others, the meso of institutions and the macro of society (Berger and Luckmann 1967). Subjectivity also plays a role in the perception of reality. It is the result of the complex interaction between the body, the psyche, one’s own perception of oneself, one’s identification, society’s depiction of oneself, significant other’s ideas about oneself, negative and positive expectations (Berger and Luckmann 1967, Gergen 2009). Social constructionism will be useful to problematise the lack of questioning around body hair to investigate how socialisation into hair removal is often accepted as unproblematic. Since metaphors are ‘central aspects of our understanding’ (Spence 1987 cited in Gergen 2009:35) it may also help in the analysis of the animal metaphors that seem to surround body hair (Basow 1991).
2.3.2 Habitus, taste, performativity
Women often justify hair removal as a personal choice. In order to explore the implications surrounding claims around choice I am going to use Bourdieu’s and Butler’s theories. Bourdieu theorised taste as the result of the mutually reinforcing combination of material conditions and the habitus. The habitus is the reiterated practice within a social field that supports one’s structural positioning and one’s perception of the self as ‘asserted through difference’ (Bourdieu 1984:172). Taste thus becomes ‘the propensity and capacity to appropriate’ (Bourdieu 1984:173) a lifestyle: it turns a lifestyle into a form of embodied capital.The reiteration that the habitus entails is quite consistent with the most common practices of hair removal. Bourdieu theorised the habitus as referencing to social field normativity where the habitual reproduction of conformity ends up constructing subjects that are unconscious both about structures and about their formation (Butler 1999, Bourdieu 1984). Butler applied Bourdieu’s ideas about the habitus to gender. She focused on language to highlight how a repeated interpellation, for instance being called girl, is unconsciously and unproblematically internalised during the socialisation process. The internalised naturalisation becomes then constitutive of the unconscious performances, i.e. performativity, related to identity (Butler 1993, Butler 1999). Shaving one’s beard off every morning is, for instance, a performative and constitutive act: it does masculinity by unconsciously reinforcing one’s identity through the repetitive routine and by addressing a gendered and visible body area such as the face.
2.3.3 Context
Body hair visibility draws a line between the private and the public and determines which visible hair is acceptable in each temporal and spatial context. The geography of the body blurs with culture in mapping appropriate and deviant bodies. In order to address how space and time may influence the experience of body hair and vice-versa how bodies influence context, I will use Henri Lefebvre’s thought. Theorising the body at the junction of space and time, Lefebvre looked at space as the product of (reiterated) practices, knowledge and creative processes (Simonsen 2005).Observing how bodies materially produce and occupy space, their boundaries marking the separation from the internal to the external, he noticed how the bi-dimensional spatial and temporal distinction of the self from the ‘Other’ (that Lacanian psychoanalysis addresses) entails that bodies are contemporarily forging and forged by space due to the distinctive symmetries/dualities (such as man/woman) that subjectivity produces (Lefebvre 1991).Funding his theory on lived experience he observed how repetitive everydayness worked towards reinforcing structures by leaving them unquestioned. Everyday activities are often labelled as trivial since the combination of the linear rationality that explains them and the natural cycles (such as days and nights) within which they are performed concur to mask their structures (Lefebvre and Levich 1987). ‘The everyday can also be analysed as the uniform aspect of the major sectors of social life: work, family, private life, leisure. These sectors, though distinct as forms, are imposed upon in their practice by a structure allowing us to discover what they share: organized passivity.’ (Lefebvre and Levich 1987:10).
3.0 METHODOLOGY
Body hair presents several facets: biological, cultural and subjective. All these aspects and the explorative nature of this research led me towards a methodology that was primarily informed on various levels by feminism and social constructionism. Feminism is not a uniform movement. I have used a qualitative approach focusing on subjectivities (including the researcher) and questioning the system of power relations (Alvesson and Sköldberg 2005). In order to achieve such a level of problematisation I have borrowed from feminist methodology standpoint theory and reflexivity. Standpoint theory questioned hair attitudes from the subjects’ point of view (Ramazanoglu and Holland 2002). Reflexivity involved highlighting my role as a researcher, unravelling my positioning in the power relations during the research process and addressing ethics (Ramazanoglu and Holland 2002). This chapter will cover the research practicalities and outcomes including the sample, the interviewing process and data interpretation along with the methodological reasoning behind it.
3.1 Standpoint theory, cultural constructionism and the sample
Since the topic was presenting a lot of particularities, standpoint theory was the best way to represent the complexity of different experiences starting from different identities and identifications. Standpoint theory focuses on how the positioning informs power relations and it generally involves oppressed and less represented groups (Ramazanoglu and Holland 2002). It was ideal to embrace the feminist politics behind my enquiry but it could be problematic in the assumption that a certain identity or identification necessarily makes the participant feel oppressed (Ramazanoglu and Holland 2002) or that oppression enables subjects to produce objective accounts (Stoetzler and Yuval-Davis 2002). It would have been equally controversial to ignore positioning when examining difference in practices that previous research highlighted as gendered, sexualised, classed and raced (Fahs and Delgado 2011, Fahs 2011b). In order to avoid generalisation while at the same time stirring away from relativism (Ramazanoglu and Holland 2002), I combined standpoint theory with social constructionism discussed in chapter 2. Experience, perceptions and more importantly imaginations were regarded as data, not because they were seen as mirroring an objective reality but because they contributed to the construction and positioning of the participants as subjects (Skeggs 1997 cited in Ramazanoglu and Holland 2002, Stoetzler and Yuval-Davis 2002). Since I interrogated habitus and performativity (see chapter 2), I used standpoints as a way to analyse how ‘subjects are formed and reformulated’ (Butler 1999:125) by the conflation of the personal with the social.
The sample was, specifically selected for differences in gender (trans*, queer, woman, man), sexuality (lesbian, bisexual, gay, queer, heterosexual), ethnicity and age; it was reached through snowball sampling and has been anonymised. By asking participants to choose their own pseudonym I hoped to empower them, although some of them did not deem it important to choose and were assigned one by me. Ideally aiming at approximately 1 representative (Denzin cited in Baker and Edwards 2012) for each group, the ideal sample size was theorised as composed of 16 people.I only managed to get 14 participants due to two drop outs. The drop outs were both male (although I have no way of knowing how they identified) and I struggled to find men, in particular heterosexual ones, willing to participate. Whenever I asked they shied away, avoided me or just plainly stated that they’d rather not talk about this topic. I had to actively negotiate men’s participation (with one exception) while females accepted more promptly and showed more enthusiasm. Men unanimously perceived advertisement as something targeting mostly women which might partially explain their reluctance to relate body hair to themselves despite the work they put on a regular basis on their facial hair.Agewise the sample was composed of participants from 20 to 60 year old. The final size of 14 people was still acceptable according to Adler and Adler that suggest 12 participants are enough for a graduate research due to the small amount of time to complete the task (cited in Baker and Edwards 2012). Since a fair amount of diversity was nonetheless achieved, the research is still valid provided the reader is aware of the limits of sample composition highlighted in table 1.
TABLE 1 – Sample composition
| Participants | 14 |
| Currently removing hair | 11 |
| Mostly trimming | 1 |
| Currently not removing hair | 2 |
| Sexual orientation | |
| Heterosexual | 7 |
| Gay | 2 |
| Bisexual | 2 |
| Lesbian | 1 |
| Loves men but prefers to have sex with women | 1 |
| Queer | 1 |
| Gender | |
| Women | 8 |
| Men | 3 |
| Queers | 2 |
| Trans man | 1 |
| Other identifications | |
| Feminists | 3 |
| Asians | 2 |
| Black | 1 |
3.2 Methods and ethics: interviews and comparisons
The research involved semi-structured interviews therefore engaging with ‘researcher provoked-data’ (Silverman 2006:201). This kind of data was at clear risk of being romanticised by the journalistic belief that interviews are necessarily the best way to access experience (Silverman 2006), that data speaks for itself (Ramazanoglu and Holland 2002) and that the context does not influence the production (Alvesson and Sköldberg 2005). The research could have been designed to access naturally occurring data (Silverman 2006) but since it was exploratory, I believed that the difference in standpoints that I was aiming at was only accessible through interviewing participants directly. Data does not speak for itself, it needs thorough analysis to make sense of it and that has been achieved using thematic analysis (see subchapter 3.3). The whole asking process about body hair was designed not only to produce data but to work towards the empowerment of participants by triggering reflection about a topic that is generally given for granted (Campbell and Wasco 2000). My influence in data production was clear both to me and to some of the participants who stated that they had not consciously thought about body hair so much prior to the research.
To minimise the discomfort during the interview, the place was agreed mutually and Skype interviews were made available. Skype interviews were included both to optimise the participants’ time and resources, to make them more comfortable in their own chosen environment and to enhance their ability to manage discomfort or anxiety by interrupting the interview with a click if they so wished (Hanna 2012, Deakin and Wakefield 2013). Only two interviews took place via Skype and one participant only agreed to email me the answers. Participants were also emailed questions in advance so they could both familiarise with them and discuss anything they might find uncomfortable with me beforehand. The questions are illustrated in appendix A and were designed to explore the general perceptions about body hair, what it was expressing to others and how they read it (or its lack) on others. Question four and five were investigating socialisation into hair removal and how advertisement was involving self-perception. I was also interested to explore pain perception and its negotiation and hygiene. I prepared a number of prompts to investigate routine, insecurities, motivations that can be partially read in appendix B where Unicorn’s interview, is being reported as a sample. On top of semi-structured interviews, participants were requested to fill in the comparisons ‘As hairy as…’ and ‘As hairless as…’ and to give a set of adjectives for each comparison. Metaphors are often used to describe ‘people and actions as out of place’ (Cresswell 1997) and they are effective in capturing everyday life (Lefebvre cited in Cresswell 1997). They were therefore used to investigate the contextual references behind body hair.
3.3 Data interpretation: ethics and thematic analysis
Interpretation of data is an area fraught with power issues for which accountability of the researcher needs to be discussed (Ramazanoglu and Holland 2002). For most of the participants I was an ‘insider’. While it helped to gain access and establish a trusting relationship it did not necessarily mean that we shared views on body hair. Recognising my own prejudices against hair removal (and making beauty) as an empowering tool, I tried to question them in the data analysis. The extent to which I have achieved the abstention from judgement is limited by the political scope of the research and by the methods used.There was a power issue in interpreting data of immigrants and migrants into the UK. The risk was of ‘colonising other people’s experiences’ (Ramazanoglu and Holland 2002:139) or being what Silverman has termed as ‘tourist’ researcher using research to examine the odd and unusual (2006:6). The awareness of this risk along with an approach based on the validity of data rather than on its oddity was used to counterbalance it. Accountability towards participants was also offered in the form of transparency both about the process and about the outcomes. Whenever they showed interest in knowing the results I offered to email the whole dissertation to them. The method used to analyse the data was thematic analysis in its constructionist interpretation (Braun and Clarke 2006). Body hair proved to be methodologically effective in discussing broader issues. The data produced was so dense and rich that it was not possible to provide an overview in such a short dissertation. Themes were therefore theoretically driven, the focus being on an in-depth description of selected themes (Braun and Clarke 2006). The analysis interested the latent level of the data and was conducted in two phases. The first one consisted in highlighting general themes in the interviews and the second in the individualisation of theoretically related themes in both interviews and metaphors (Braun and Clarke 2006).
4.0 DISSECTING BODY HAIR
In order to collate both interviews and metaphors data this chapter begins addressing the comparisons, follows with specific themes emerging from the interviews and finally discusses the implications of the data presented. The part addressing interview data is divided into two subchapters. The first one addresses processes of socialisation into hair removal focusing exclusively on family and peers (due to space restrictions) and it involves context in its temporal connotation. The second targets context in its geographical and material sense, referencing to body parts. Brighton as a recreational and sexualised space is compared with competitive and formal environments such as workplaces where the normative hair is a performance of ‘properhood’. Throughout the whole process, since it is not practical to report the whole range of responses, I had been looking at the binary extremes of the data.
4.1 The metaphoric hair
This symbolic part of the research was designed to test the construction of hair against its opposites. It was meant to investigate both the recurring animal metaphors for hairiness (Toerien and Wilkinson 2008) and its ‘double opposition to women and to children’ (Synnott 1987:390) that previous research highlighted (see also chapter 2). What is noticeable from the results in table 2 is that the same number of comparisons for both hairy and hairless prompted far more adjectives for the former and that a consistent number of them were related to wild animals with what appears to be fairly negative connotations (see note). The hairless ones were more positive, varied and not as strongly connected to childhood as the hairy ones were to animals (see table 3).
| COMPARISONS | ||||
| Animals | Human | Objects | Total | |
| Hairy | 16 | 3 | 1 | 20 |
| Hairless | 6 | 7 | 7 | 20 |
| ADJECTIVES | ||||
| Positive | Negative* | Neutral | Total | |
| Hairy | 20 | 45 | 9 | 74 |
| Hairless | 31 | 15 | 9 | 55 |
*Some adjectives were not intrinsically negative. They were deemed negative because of their position in a string of negative ones or because the participant made explicit reference to it. I did not directly ask all of the participants how they perceived them.
| Animals | ||
| Metaphor | n° of times cited | |
| Bear | 6 | |
| Ape | 3 | |
| Monkey | 3 | |
| Gorilla | 2 | |
| Wolf | 1 | |
| Cat | 1 | |
| Humans | ||
| Metaphor | n° of times cited | |
| Baby’s part (cheek/bottom) | 2 | |
| Baby | 1 | |
| Old person | 1 | |
| Bald man | 1 | |
As Jack Halberstam (2013) noted, both the animal and the child have been thought of as wild, outside normative adulthood and in need of heavy training. It is thus possible to equate wildness on one hand with anarchy as the unpredictable state that is not governed by orderly rules but also with freedom from the policing that training entails. It appears as if the hairy imaginary is not constructed against the hairless one but against the dyad human/animal that turns the hairy body into a geographical Other ‘Both denied and desired’ since ‘the Same or Self requires an Other against which it can identify itself’ (Longhurst 1995:99). A distinction that is also theorised by Bourdieu as aspirational and class-related and that connects to the construction of hairlessness as a symbol of civilisation highlighted in the subchapter 2.1. The imaginary concerning primates (apes, gorillas, monkeys), in a country like Britain where they do not live freely, seemed also to mirror the Darwinian distinction between human kind and the animal realm and all its derivations previously discussed in the sub-chapter 2.1.
4.2 Socialisation, embodiment and emotional relationships
Socialisation or training into hair removal for this research presented striking similarities with a recent broader research investigating appearance management during adolescence (Johnson et al. 2014). The training, although prevalent during puberty, did not seem to end with primary socialisation (Berger and Luckmann 1967). Anytime a comparison resulted in the perception of personal flaws regarding body hair, the subsequent feeling of lack of power triggered an active involvement in ‘improving’ one’s appearance or doing beauty as a means to gain (or not to lose) social (Bourdieu 1986), economic and emotional capital (Zembylas 2007). Congruently with research highlighted in the subchapter 2.2, hairlessness was described as a tool to perform womanhood in order to feel proper, adult and to fit in with peers during puberty.
To me I guess it was like getting into adulthood by starting to do things that women and older women would do […] it was the woman thing to do […] I guess everybody was doing it and I was doing it too. – Music Madness
Men (again in line with previous research) used body hair to perform masculinity, virility and neatness.
I’m a trans man and so for me my beard and the ability to sort of demonstrate a kind of very visible masculinity are extremely important. –James
Our generation was brought up on the image of Sean Connery as James Bond, so a hairy body (especially chest) was considered a mark of virility – Peter
I’m very much into trimming and keeping things tidy and short and clean – James
Minimising hair’s importance to them was also a way to show conformity and normalcy. This might partially explain the reluctance to participate to the research as a means to perform manhood.
Now body hair is not of particular importance to me. It sort of ended up in what I consider to be a fairly average range neither very little nor a great deal – James
I don’t think my body hair has any particular message for anyone, being rather average. – Peter
Peter was the only one to acknowledge media influence (see previous quote) and he was also the only one to casually and indirectly mention parents, although they seemed to have played quite a role on his perception and insecurities around body hair.
My father commented that my brother would turn out to be “the hairy one” (like Esau) and I would be the “smooth one”, like Jacob. This was the first time the subject had even occurred to me. […] Beards were sometimes considered a sign of weakness (that was certainly my mother’s view, she hated beards!), so I never grew one. […] Abundant body hair on other men might sometimes be a slight source of envy – Peter
Scott directly acknowledged peers’ influence
I have red hair. It was much more red when I was younger. There comes a point, especially in the UK with red hair, when you can become very self-conscious about it […] for a long time I was deeply uncomfortable with the colour of my hair […] I had a lot of facial hair […] I wanted to get rid as much of it as possible just because of self-consciousness about the colour. – Scott
describing how awareness due to bullying led him to remove his facial hair more often.
Female participants, on the other hand, acknowledged the influence of mothers and female peers extensively. Their narratives describe how the emotional bonds with caring figures and comparisons with peers perceived as successful influenced their decision.
I did many different treatments when I was younger… mostly because my mum asked me to do it… didn’t ask me… I don’t know –Music Madness
She had already started having boyfriends and she was shaving and another friend was more outspoken and more sociable than me so she was going clubbing every week end etc. she was also already shaving and I thought ‘Ok, I should start shaving as well’ […] when you are 16 you emulate people, right? You look for examples or for tutors in a way. So they were doing it, I started doing it as well. – Amanda
I saw my mum epilating, […] I remember that it really hurt but I remember also that I didn’t question why she was doing it, it was really a given to me. […] I think I just saw her doing it and it took me maybe another two or three years to do it to my own body. –Unicorn
The bonds made it difficult for participants to acknowledge the power of their models since it was not performed as an authoritarian imposition but as mentoring: a socially approved and encouraged practice theoretically addressing the wellbeing of the trainee.
4.2.1 Deviant and collective persuasion
When models were not mirroring collective norms, they were not persuasive. Margaret’s feminist mother not only did not convince her daughter that she did not need to shave but ended up buying her tools for removal for her birthday. Only a consistent group of visible hairy women seemed to have had an inspirational effect in challenging the hairless norm.
There were loads of women who weren’t shaved, with really hairy legs and armpits and it was a really empowering experience for me – Mishka
The power of the group also worked towards undermining confidence as with bullying, in another example of ginger hair teasing.
[In] Primary school, I used to get bullied for being ginger. […] I was very very very aware from that age about hair and I think that might have influenced how I feel about it. […] Because I was insulted about it, when it started growing, immediately it was gone. Immediately. – A
Where power was recognised as manifest and imposed, it allowed for a margin of protest and challenge.
On this dating website called OK cupid […] one of the questions was to the men ‘Are women obliged to remove body hair?’ and over 90% of them said yes. […] If they think that we are obliged to do that, I want to show that we’re not – A
Collective criticism influenced the victimisation of the participant while collective appreciation acted as an empowerment. Collectivity acts as a magnifier of power but as highlighted earlier if it involves an openly authoritarian implication (as ‘obliged’) it is easier to detect and question.
4.2.2 Trainers
I define trainers as those agents whose attributed educational role makes them collectively responsible of the trainee’s behaviour. They can be parents, older siblings, carers etc. Analysing the trainer’s side, there were two main factors that seemed to have triggered pressure and policing: avoidance of stigma at all costs because of the emotional connection with the trainee and positive social reinforcement for the trainer if they succeeded in the persuasion.
When I was 14-15 I started to have a lot of hormonal problems and I had some chin hair, so she would take me to the beautician to have them removed. And from them I started to do[…] ’glycolic acid’ […] It was fucking painful […] And then, after that, you know they started to do these laser machines, I think it was early 2000 and so my mum said: ‘You can go to do the laser on your legs’. At that time it was super expensive and I told her: ‘Mum, to be honest I really don’t care to do it’ ‘No, no. Do it because then you feel better’ – Music Madness
They [sisters] would warn me about doing it, giving me pressure but I didn’t feel it like a negative pressure, it was like positive, not positive but it was making me aware of something, a social rule. […] To grow a moustache […] was also a sign of class. People that belonged to the lower classes wouldn’t take it away, they were not aware. – Kyrilla
If you see somebody removing their pubic hair, people instantly think that you’re a sort of a sexual pervert […] My children are strongly affected by the Western culture […] and they understand the difference between body hair in this country and Japan […] so when they go to Japan, they just prepare not to remove their pubic hair even though their boyfriend and girlfriend insist on them doing that. That is really important for them and for me as well. In Japan we have this tradition of having common baths, hot spas. And you go there without wearing anything. – Masako
The trainers’ relation to their own body hair mattered. For instance Music Madness’ mother hardly had any body hair: that might have helped shaping her daughter’s hairy body like a threatening Other to be tamed. Their pressure mirrored the combination of their own feelings around body hair, their perception of their educational role and the training they received because of their social and cultural positioning.
4.3 Mapping the body
A and Amanda were the keener removers in terms of body areas covered and dedication. A took pride in the results but not in the process, Amanda took pride in the process, particularly in waxing rather than shaving despite the pain. Amanda also described extensively contexts that would make her feel uncomfortable. In both of their discourses they used verbs (emphasised) that described objective obligation or need to control their hair.
I don’t like shaving but I like the results so I suppose I do it because I like the results. […] For legs it could be an extra ten to fifteen minutes. Arms, down there and it used to be eyebrows as well so I could say it goes 30 minutes probably and I will do it every couple of days. The eyebrows has to be everyday, the arms are everyday for me as well and I used to do my forearms as well. I got into the habits of shaving arms and my forearms, then I stopped doing that because I thought ‘I don’t want it to grow back thicker’ but I think for some reasons I got into doing that because I just want to be all completely smooth. – A (emphasis added)
When I go swimming I don’t want my underarms too furry […]When I go running I don’t want to see hair when I look down. […] and also of course when I go on holiday, definitely. Before going on holiday, regardless of where I go, even if I was to go skiing [I remove body hair]. […] when there is an event or something coming up and I feel I have to get waxed. […] if I had a partner probably I would get waxed more often. […] Of course my face is always visible so the face has to be taken care of regardless. […] if I had to go to the hospital, urgently and I wasn’t waxed […] I wouldn’t feel very comfortable at all. […] When I wax my calves […] it’s ok, it’s not painful […] upper leg is a bit painful but it’s ok, I can stand it. Bikini line and Brazilian […] that’s really painful. It’s unbelievably painful for me but I do it anyway. As I said I feel more comfortable and I would never shave. I wouldn’t do my bikini line nor would I ever do a Brazilian with the razor. Underarms are ok, they are not too painful, just a little. – Amanda (emphasis added)
These comments highlight a geography of the body that may be matching the imaginary of specific cultures and periods with gender and legacy. A and Scott’s hair colour might have been a geographical reference to their non-English heritage since red haired people are statistically more present in Ireland and Scotland. In a period in which racism against Irish and Scottish was condoned in London (Fogg 2013), this attitude might have been mirrored by the peers’ bullying. Amanda was born and lived in Italy like me and we are approximately the same age. Waxing and epilating for our generation was constructed as the only appropriate way of hair removal and it was a way to perform both class and womanhood. Since the cultural context matters, travelling can inform different geographies of the body.
When I lived in Uzbekistan it was quite attractive for women to have a uni-brow. And for the women who didn’t have it, like naturally, they would actually put mascara and paint it on […] It’s interesting because […] I assumed that most of the females there from America […] probably stopped shaving […] cultural shaming just was not the norm. – B
Beauty, where defined by the visible presence of hair (even if it’s just eyebrows) dispels the Western paradigm of hairlessness and the metaphor human/animal although it still reinforces the idea that beauty-work is a woman’s job.
4.4 Hairy sexuality versus hairless competition
Diversity can also be found within the UK. Unicorn and Margaret mostly did not remove their body hair (although Unicorn said her hair is not very visible) and they were both part of the queer community in Brighton. They highlighted how their hairy bodies passing unnoticed made Brighton a place where hairiness was in the open more than in any other British place.
I think Brighton is a very diverse and very inclusive and open community: if it’s warm and you’re wearing a short dress with lots of body hair you wouldn’t necessarily raise an eyebrow, but during the summer holidays when lots of tourists are here you can really feel the difference – Unicorn
I certainly know people here who don’t [remove hair] and I think that also if I go to another part of the country and people see my body hair and then they hear that I’m from Brighton then they go: ‘Oh ok’. […] I went to Edinburgh and literally like… just walking out of the airport lots of people were staring at me. And I was quite surprised because I always forget that there is a chance that Brighton is slightly a nicer place to live than other places. – Margaret
Margaret in particular concluded that the British gaze imagines Brighton as a ‘free zone’ where behaviours and appearances that are otherwise unacceptable are condoned and even expected. It constructs Brighton as a circumscribed transgressive and sexualised area (Munt 1995) which could be equated, getting back to the animal symbology, to a zoo. There was a stark difference though, from how the Brightonians in the sample viewed their body hair depending on whether they identified as queer or lesbian.
Queer is an umbrella term to describe any expression of the self that transcends norms and policing. It can be sometimes used to encompass the whole range of diversity within the LGBTI community and beyond. Within lesbian culture, the butch/femme couple entails a gendered presentation of the self whose conventions of behaviour and appearance vary with the degree of ‘butchness’ (Halberstam 1998).
I did the butch thing for years where I had shaved head, didn’t shave my legs, did trim my armpits with scissors but didn’t shave them and then at my sister’s wedding two years ago I had to shave my legs because I wore a dress. […] So I’d rather have shaved legs than not, whereas for years I just didn’t bother because A) I had it in my head that I wasn’t attractive enough to wear feminine clothes and be feminine and B) you can’t be gay… it was easier being gay with hairy legs. […] Shaving is part of the girly faff. That’s sort of what feminine women do. I can’t say feminine. More… I don’t know. Girly faff, really. Because I don’t think you’re necessarily any less feminine if you don’t shave your legs and you don’t wear a dress but I kind of prefer it. I mean: to me, years and years and years of being gay, before I thought I can be gay and like the girly faff and I can wear a dress and I can shave my legs and my mother doesn’t necessarily win. – Mishka (emphasis added)
In Mishka’s statement there is quite a lot at stake: her confrontational relationship with her mother, her past identification as butch and her own relation with her body.
The butch/femme couple is based on a mutual erotic gaze that presumes and opposes specific appearances. The butch appearance allows mutual visibility and recognition in a public space like the street where the femme gaze lingers upon her to signal attraction (Munt 1995). In the shift from a butch appearance to liking ‘girly faff’, Mishka seemed to have missed the erotic public gaze on her hairy legs in favour of the ability to pamper and appreciate herself. The shift also meant that in order to deserve an appreciative or a neutral gaze both from her audience and from herself, she now needed a visible proof of active engagement such as hairless legs. The same meritocracy that converts an appreciative gaze into a positive reinforcement for doing hairlessness and beauty turned dating into a competitive context where economic language was used.
If you are competing in a world where partnerships are getting harder and harder to come by, you tend to do whatever little things make you feel more attractive, that show that you look after your body – Mishka
Visible leg hair can be conceived differently depending on the positioning. Outsiders may justify it as an acceptable eccentricity within what they conceive as a leisure and queered space. Insiders are not uniform. The specificity of butch appearance requires body hair to construct the equation sexy-hairy by making it a tool for personal and political identification. Queer, being a term that eschews distinctions, constructs itself on personal choice and although it does not dismiss body hair as a tool of expression, it rejects body hair as a tool to claim anything but personal freedom.
Not only body hair norms had to do with situations of distinction or conformity linked to conventions and customs, but as in Mishka’s previous quote, competitive contexts also triggered both policing and self-awareness/control. The workplace was particularly relevant to competition. B was an entrepreneur who would only shave her armpits when visible and she witnessed her colleague, a dance teacher with a sleeveless dress, sporting hairy armpits at one of her events. James was a self-employed and Saudamini a professional dancer. They all talked about proper presentation as a duty towards their imagined audiences.
I was actually really shocked because it’s a very bold thing to do when that is your business […] and especially here in England I think you have to… I think I would have thought ‘Oh my clients might think that as a bit off-putting so I should probably shave my armpits, I don’t usually do it but I should probably do it’. […] I think it was a really interesting thing for that to happen, you know… the fact that I was so shocked by it even though I probably hadn’t shaved my armpits – B (emphasis added)
I would shave around my beard, probably two or three times a week and that’s partly depending on when I’m working and seeing clients so I’ll make sure that I’m looking smart. – James (emphasis added)
I waxed my legs […] this was within a work context where I had to insure that […] my legs were clean – Saudamini (emphasis added)
The work context is fraught with power relations. It is an arena where the body is scrutinised and disciplined and where strict rules about appearance apply as ‘Selling […] also involves selling oneself’ (McDowell 1995:94). The economic remuneration constructs the audience (employer, colleagues, clients) as a jury on whose verdict both one’s position and the transaction depend. There is not much space for a ‘deviant’ appearance or creativity in presentation (as underlined verbs indicate) since conformity is used to reassure and persuade the customer about the validity of the product/service.
4.5 Data narratives and recommendations
The focus of the data presented, whose purpose was to broaden the discursive understanding of the construction of body hair and its removal, has shown how during the socialisation process emotional bonds with peers and family, in particular mothers and admired peers, mattered (Johnson et al. 2014). They were at the heart of mirroring hair removal for females. Men were less likely to recognise the importance of familiar conditioning and bonds in hair removal because of how masculinity was constructed against the average body hair. The products of socialisation, though, were not informed by gender. Behaviour that was modelled against a perceived negative distinction, (for instance Peter’s shaving in order not to show weakness or Kyrilla’s upper lip hair removal in order not to appear of a lower class) informed long-term routines and insecurities. In most cases it still informed current perceptions and practices unless they had been deconstructed by active questioning and self-reflection. Identity and identification also informed the performativity (Butler 1993) of hairlessness and hairiness in order to constitute coherent perceptions of the self. Hair removal practices were embodied thanks to the historically and geographically constituted habitus: the perceived ‘personal’ taste was a product of emotional attachments to the models of socialisation, the values attributed to the practice in a specific context and culture and the power relations and perceptions within it. Context mattered. Hair removal appeared more important in places or moments where the performance of distinction or conformity to rules was perceived as a duty. The distinctions performed were of various kinds: the self was distinguished from others (separating the personal from the social), the context from other contexts, the ordinary from the extraordinary etc.
Environments perceived as competitive or unequal triggered a wide range of comparison, insecurities, anxieties around one’s own and other’s appearance. The lack of power resulted in the perception of hair-related flaws to be amended where possible. The visible amendments were a capital in themselves, traded for a positive or neutral gaze on the social level and for self-confidence on the personal one thus reinforcing body-awareness, control and policing through the reiterated practice. The eagerness of the display of visible amendments was proportional to the insecurity around one’s hair and was partially connected to the visibility of the body area involved. Exceptions to the hairy/hairless norm like those of the hairy queers in Brighton and hairy eyebrows on women in Uzbekistan on one hand illustrate other possibilities to the Western rigidity around beauty, gender and body hair but on the other their exceptionality and marginality serve only as a reinforcement of the myths around body hair. Sexual and gender playfulness and alternative grooming involving body hair are circumscribed to othered and peculiarly out-of-place spaces.
In order to get rid of the rigidity and prejudice surrounding body hair, the Darwinian myth that men are intrinsically hairier than women, justified by evolutionary attraction that distinguishes us from the animal realm, needs to be carefully deconstructed at educational, normative and personal levels. Only addressing the whole sets of assumptions such as gender as a binary, compulsory heterosexuality (Rich 1980), a ‘natural’ hairlessness of women and hairyness of men, that inform structural imbalances can we avoid to be tamed by our own construction of body hair. Hairiness as a symbol of the wild allowed the equation hairy-animal that informed and still informs stereotypes about age, gender, sexuality, class and ‘race’. It is less a matter of dismissing grooming, since it ‘apparently promotes the intricate bonds of affection that are so important for social animals’ (Smith 2011:14), and more a matter of discerning what is promoting affection and wellbeing against the practices that are dividing us into opposites and inflicting unnecessary anxiety, insecurity, physical and emotional pain. And this is by no means trivial.
5.0 CONCLUSIONS
Concluding, the research aimed at investigating contextual and subjective practices concerning body hair by also looking at processes of socialisation into practices. In order to explore the topic I interviewed a sample of participants selected by diversity of identity and identification. I additionally asked them to complete hairy and hairless metaphors and data was then analysed using thematic analysis. Metaphors indicated the role of the symbolic distinctions (such as animal/human or man/woman) that the visible presence or lack of hair embodies. The dualities highlighted are at the root of structural imbalances constructing out-of-place spaces and social groups. This process of distinction is reinforced by training, habits and competition. Trading compliance with social acceptance leaves little space for self-expression and choice whether one is part of the mainstream culture or smaller ‘deviant’ groups. While ‘deviant’ groups and spaces can open up to the possibility of a more varied, playful and relaxed approach to body hair in order to deconstruct the imaginary around it, for the moment their marginalised position construct them as the exception to confirm the rule. It is only by addressing myths constructed with the aid of body hair at micro, meso and macro level that awareness about the structures they sustain can reverse even partially the given for granted practices and perceptions.
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APPENDICES
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Appendix A – Questions
1) How important is body hair (where by body hair I mean both facial and body hair)?
2) What does your body hair (or the lack of it) tells others about you? Think about different degrees of others like your partner/a friend/ someone you don’t know and feel free to distinguish between different parts of the body.
3) What does body hair on others tells you about them? Think about different degrees of others like your partner/a friend/ someone you don’t know and feel free to distinguish between different parts of the body.
4) Could you describe the first time you were made aware or became self-conscious about body hair?
5) How do you find hair-removal advertisements?
6) What role does pain or pain-avoidance has or had in the decision of if, when and how you remove or avoid removal of body hair?
7) Body hair and hygiene. Please state your views.
Appendix B – Unicorn interview
1) How important is body hair (where by body hair I mean both facial and body hair)?
That’s an interesting question. Hm, I think it’s not very important to me, it’s not something that I would think about a lot, it’s not something that I would talk with friends unless it’s a specific feminist discussion at the feminist collective where we might have body hair as a topic. Yeah, otherwise…
Ok. So… you never think about it?
I rarely think about it, if I do then it’s not something that takes up a lot of friends space or it’s not something that I obsess about. I wouldn’t think a long time about what kind of razor I would buy or what kind of method I would use. Actually a few weeks ago my friend, she did sugaring. So you could wax: there’s a new technique that’s sugaring and she told me about it. I was interested but it wasn’t important to me, it’s not something I would care much about.
Do you remove your body hair?
No, very rarely, sometimes I kind of shave my bikini zone a little bit but I have my armpit hair and my leg hair always, all year, not just summer. Also because I have bright body hair you can’t really see it anyway. And I sometimes wonder if I… like I have a lot of friends that wear short dresses in the summer and they leave their dark body hair, to them it’s a really strong statement. I couldn’t have that statement because no one really sees my bright body hair anyway. So I was jokingly saying last summer that I was a bit jealous that I can’t protest properly because it doesn’t matter if I shave or not, no one will notice.
2) What does your body hair (or the lack of it) tells others about you?
That’s interesting. I think when I was younger I really had a strong sense that I had to shave in order to be seen like a clean person, like someone who’s looking after themselves especially as a woman, now I think, in my circle of friends or in my social world it doesn’t tell them anything about me that I don’t shave. But I think it does tell people outside my usual social world definitely something about me, especially as a queer woman with long hair. If someone is very sensitive and they’re looking for signs, the only thing that as an outside straight person would make them think that I might be queer is that I’m not shaving. But maybe that’s in my head, I don’t know.
You were talking about somebody that you don’t know, but what about a partner or a friend?
Hm… I don’t have a partner.
Think about an ideal one.
Hm, I think a close friend, again wouldn’t mind if I shaved or not. I have a friend who’s really obsessed about shaving, to her is self-care and she… for example she would get ready for a party and she would have a shower and shave from head to toe and come out and be really happy and I think that’s really cute and I think in my circle of friends we have this understanding that it really doesn’t matter and it’s about personal choice, it’s not more radical to not shave or anything else if you do shave, you know you just do what you want to do. In a relationship, the same really. I think that I’ve considered dating in the last two years, I’m pretty sure that they have the same kind of thoughts in that they think everyone should just do what they want to do.
What if you were asked to shave? Or if you were asked not to remove your hair?
I think I would be flexible, I think it would really depend on how deep the relationship is with the person. If someone I just started dating came up to me and say ‘Look I really want you to shave your legs cause Ugh!’ I would be like: “Er… no!’ but if someone shows me that they really care about me and it’s kind of a more trusting long-term relationship and they can explain to me in a really nice way why they really like shaving or not shaving then I would consider doing it. I wouldn’t do it every day because it’s a lot of effort and takes a lot of time but I would definitely consider doing it.
3) What does body hair on others tells you about them? Think about different degrees of others like your partner/ a friend/ someone you don’t know and feel free to distinguish between different areas of the body.
I think at the beach in Brighton, being around queer people and feminists when we go out… well obviously my body hair is bright so you can’t see it but I think if I see other women not shaving it makes me smile, it’s more like… you know I can smile at them in solidarity and get: ‘Hey! I’m not shaving either, woo!’. But it doesn’t tell me anything about them as a person even if I know their reasons for shaving or not shaving. I don’t think I would ever meet someone here in Brighton and see their body hair and make any big conclusions about it. Does that makes sense?
Yes, it makes sense. What about someone you don’t know?
Hm, if I meet a stranger and saw their body hair?
I think if I saw a stranger that’s female and straight I wouldn’t be surprised if they do shave, I think that’s the expectation I would have because it’s the norm, it’s what I’ve learnt.
But how can you tell whether she’s straight or not?
That’s a good question, it [hair removal] would be an indicator to me if I’m really honest although it’s a shame because I really wish we wouldn’t need these labels and even if they do exist then we wouldn’t use physical traits as an indicator. But as a survival strategy, that’s what you do.
So you would assume she’s straight if she shaves.
Yes.
What if she has hair?
I think if she has hair, if I would like her that would make me more hopeful that she isn’t straight but I wouldn’t be able to tell, obviously.
What if it was a man?
If it was a man, I think I’ve never really spent a lot of time thinking about men’s body hair, whether they are shaving or not I have no friend who has very hairy legs and who does shave. I think I know that it does attract a lot of tension but I don’t even know anything, I’ve never really thought about men.
What about a hairy partner?
I think again I really wouldn’t mind. Yes it’s not even something that would come up in a conversation very early on in a relationship. I don’t think I would start dating someone and have a shower with them and be like: ‘Hey, why are you not shaving?’ or ‘Why are you shaving?’
But would you be appreciative if they had hair?
I wouldn’t care honestly.
I am asking because you said that you would be appreciative if you’d meet a stranger on the beach who doesn’t shave.
Yes that’s more like friendly solidarity, I think. Because I know that as a group of hairy women on the beach we would attract attention, you know that’s not about attraction, or finding it attractive or not attractive, it’s just about knowing that we are a group standing out at the beach and smiling at each other in solidarity.
Are there any other places where you think having hair is a political statement?
The swimming pool. I think the swimming pool and in the summer just the city in general because it gets really hot and people show more skin and I think in the summer… I think Brighton is a very diverse and very inclusive and open community: if it’s warm and you’re wearing a short dress with lots of body hair you wouldn’t necessarily raise an eyebrow, but during the summer holidays when lots of tourists are here you can really feel the difference, I feel. When people are going out to clubs and you see them in the streets and I think that people that are kind of deviating from the norm are sticking more out and there really is a change of atmosphere over the summer in Brighton where maybe people do raise eyebrows.
4) Could you please describe the first time you were made aware or became self-conscious about your body hair?
Really, really early, probably I think… I remember being really young maybe nine or ten I saw my mum epilating, so she removed her body hair with the electric machine, I remember that it really hurt but I remember also that I didn’t question why she was doing it, it was really a given to me. I just didn’t know my mum any other way, it was a bit of a ritual: every two or three weeks she would sit in the living room and do this machine thing, and I knew it hurt and looking back it was really weird that I never questioned, I never asked her: ‘Why are doing something that hurts you?’. I think I just saw her doing it and it took me maybe another two or three years to do it to my own body and you know I noted that I had body hair. I think I started shaving really early maybe at 12 already. My mum was always liberal I was always allowed to do whatever I wanted to do. I had my first piercing at 12 as well, I had my nose pierced. If I asked for something… actually I already worked at the time so I had my own money to spend, I could buy my own razor, I didn’t need to tell her that kind of thing. I was babysitting, so I had a bit of money that I could handle myself and buy razors if I wanted to. And I know, I remember I was reading a lot of women’s magazines, with lots of silly silly things that weren’t good for me, I think that just perpetuated the idea that I was… I knew I was expected to be shaved and I think I didn’t really question that until I was maybe twenty or twenty-one. So during that time, maybe eight years, I always shaved and put a lot of effort in it. Like I used foam and cream after and I did it quite regularly maybe every two or three days. Yes, lots of work.
What happened next? How did you realise you wanted to stop?
Yes I ended a relationship with a straight man when I was twenty-one. We were dating from when I was seventeen to when I was twenty-one, for almost four years. I think in the last part of that relationship I started questioning lots of things: what I wanted from life, I did a bank training at the time and I think that this decision to do that had a lot to do with him and the expectations that were kind of… that people around us had about us and our relationship. So I broke up with him and I think that was a big coming of age thing or thinking harder what I really wanted, even though he’s been really supportive I don’t think I have been in that relationship and he was imposing a lot of things on me, I think he wouldn’t have minded if I hadn’t shaved, really. But it was just that kind of framework that made me not question that kind of stuff. And then I left my town at twenty-one, I moved to London, I met lots of new people and at the time I didn’t really specifically meet feminist or queer women or anyone who would specifically sit down with me and go: ‘You know, actually you don’t have to shave’. It was more like generally having more freedom in my life and thinking different things and realising that that’s one part of it. And I had a really, really hard job at the time so that was the first time that self care became an issue for me, or something that I would think about like thinking about my free time and what I wanted to do. Then shaving kind of belonged to having a shower or having a bath and be nice to your body kind of thing, and painting your toenails. And I think as a teenager I had this idea that having time or treating myself was something that would include that kind of thing [shaving], and then I realised that actually I was not doing necessarily something nice for my body, unless I really cared about my skin being soft but I didn’t. So yes, I think that at that time self-care just did it for me and I still have really nice baths and everything but I stopped shaving.
5) How do you find hair-removal advertisements?
How do I find them? I think they’re awful, I think they are so ridiculous, I mean I don’t even know where to start. I think they are always pink, or sometimes they are turquoise, I know the women in them are always photoshopped and I think that’s very hurtful. I think I shield myself from a lot of advertisement so if I do see them I am more aware of it. I don’t watch TV, I have an ad lock on my computer, I don’t listen to the radio. So I’m blocking some media channels, I use the internet a lot but I’m very specific about the websites that I do visit. I actually don’t see that many advertisements for shaving products anymore. But if I am in the supermarket, say at Boots or something, it does amaze me how gendered they are and how unrealistic about women’s bodies and how the benefits of a certain product are marketed as a… you know it’s never about making you feel good about your body it’s about being efficient with your hair and about pain-free and being super smooth and definitely the opposite of being empowering.
What do you think about smoothness?
I think it’s a nice feeling I can really appreciate… I have nothing against someone who says: ‘I enjoy shaving because I love how smooth my legs are’. Legs can feel really smooth for half a day after shaving and then it stops and then I think, for me personally it’s not worth it, it’s too much work, but I can see why people might like it and I don’t have anything against it. I think it’s important to be aware of the fact that this idea of being smooth can be related to being child-like and pressing women in a way that’s making them feel like they need to stay young but I think if you’re aware of that and you just enjoy very smooth skin then there’s nothing to be said against that, it’s a very personal choice.
Do you feel represented in the advertisements?
No, really not.
Do you remember any in particular?
I couldn’t even name the razor but I can vaguely remember the last time seeing a TV advert and it was something on a beach and a there was woman in high heels…
On the beach?
(laughing) Yes, on the beach. Her legs were ridiculously long, so they were definitely photoshopped, it was a very flashy kind of advert that did not relate to my life at all. And I couldn’t even say how… you know if I wanted to buy that kind of product, how I would see something that would relate to my life. I think if I was interested in shaving products, or in hair removal ones, I would go to Lush because I know that they are very ethical, they have lots of vegan products, the products are natural and they smell amazing. I think if I was interested in that then I would be looking in that kind of thing.
Do you think that if the ads weren’t so silly or weird they would attract more customers?
Would they attract me more, or generally?
Both you and generally.
I think generally I am sad to say that women… or general discourse around women’s body is so specific and so removed from reality that an advert that wouldn’t play by these rules that we have as society at the moment would not be very successful and would not attract more interest or customers because that’s just what women grew up with and believe in. I think for me maybe, if Lush came out with say a really easy way or a natural product that would make shaving easier then I would consider it for the summer or something, or for a special treat or a date to shave my legs and have smooth skin. As I said it’s really nice to have smooth skin, I just think it’s not important enough to me to put that much effort in it. It’s unlikely that there could be anything that would really attract my attention.
What about advertisements for men. Do you remember any?
Oh! I think I mainly remember razor blades or machines for men’s beards. It just strikes me how different and differently gendered they are to women’s hair removal products. The colours are brown or dark or maybe green. And the buzz words are very different it’s more about power and efficiency and getting ready for your busy day in the office kind of thing.
Efficiency was also there for women…
Yes, efficiency is probably the only thing that they do share in common. I don’t know, maybe I would even… if I was a woman that was interested into shaving or hair removal I might even look into men’s products because for my experience they’re just more practical, more stable and cheaper often and of higher quality. Yes, that’s an interesting aspect that I would probably look into men’s products. I think I do even remember that I bought men’s razors as an older teenager because they were much cheaper.
6) What role does pain or pain-avoidance has or had in the decision of if, when and how you remove or avoid removal of body hair?
I have tried waxing as a teenager and I mean, what I said earlier that I don’t shave has much to do with the fact that it just takes a long time, you have to do it very often. The alternative for me would be to wax very rarely maybe every two or three weeks if I wanted smooth skin. The fact that I’m not doing that has a lot to do with the fact that it hurts and it takes a lot of effort. I don’t think that if I really wanted it then the pain would put me off. I think it’s bearable, it’s ok, it’s not very nice but you can do it. Yes, but I think it’s unpleasant and unnecessary. Pain does play a role but it’s maybe 50% the other 50% is just convenience, I just can’t be bothered to do it.
You said you don’t get much negative feedback as well, does that plays any role in you not being bothered?
The feedback is interesting because as I said my body’s hair is bright and I’ve just been with my grandparents over Christmas and I was in a situation where I really rarely am, I was being slightly criticised I came down with my flat boots that I always wear and it was Christmas and my grandma was a bit like: ‘Couldn’t you have made more effort because it’s Christmas?’. So I think if I was under the pressure of having very visible dark hair, that might change my feeling slightly, maybe I would then shave once or twice over the summer, I don’t know, but I think it would definitely annoy me and I think it would be something that I would definitely be thinking about if I was being put under pressure by other people.
7) Body hair and hygiene. Please state your views about them.
I think that the idea of not shaving is unhygienic is definitely something that I used to believe as a teenager and it’s definitely a message that we are being given as women, less so as men. I think that maybe, but I’m really not sure about it, I use deodorant and I think I needed to use it less when I was shaving my armpits, but I don’t think that plays a big role. You know, we all shower all the time, we use lovely soap and it really doesn’t matter if someone shaves or not. It doesn’t really tell me anything about the hygiene. I wouldn’t make assumptions about someone’s hygiene just based on their body hair. I know so many people who use so many products, I love Lush, their glittery soap and they have a vanilla soap and I love it, I love the smell and it just doesn’t have anything to do my body hair.
I can see you paint your eyebrows. Would you like to talk about that?
Yes, it’s interesting, my eyebrows are really really bright and I feel strongly that my face looks very different without it because I just look really pale and my eyebrows are bright so if I don’t use any make up my face is completely white apart from my blue eyes and I wouldn’t say that it looks ugly, I think I thought like that as a teenager and as a teenager I felt so strongly about never being seen without make up. When I would stay at friend’s houses I would wake up in the morning and apply makeup, that’s how worried I was. Or even if I had long term boyfriends they would never see me without make up, ever. I would either use waterproof make up all the time in case it rained, so it was really a big thing for me. I think now, my face without make up doesn’t necessarily look ugly but it looks very very different.
Do you think you look more childish?
Yes I definitely look younger and it’s not necessarily a judgemental thing and I’m not saying that I’m going to be judged but I think it’s very natural for human to… there are a lot of studies in psychology that look at people that are very different and are deviating from the norm and I don’t necessarily want that kind of attraction really. I do go out sometimes without makeup and I really celebrate it but I am aware that I look like a ghost almost, like an Icelandic person. I have permanent makeup on my eyebrows, really because it’s a lot easier and it doesn’t hurt as much as a tattoo, I have lots of tattoos. You have to do it once every three years, so it’s really really easy. Of course compared to waxing it’s more painful but then you really have to do it every two or three years.
So it is a sort of tattoo?
Yes it is a sort of tattoo and it kind of fades away after a couple of years and then you do it again. Sometimes I use a bit of a pen and colour that brown in the morning but I don’t feel that tense about it anymore, I’m fine being seen without makeup. And I hate plucking my eyebrows as well, I do that very rarely, I won’t do it until it really looks weird and then I’ll do it.
I’m finished with the questions, if there is anything that you want to add…
Nothing really but I felt that was really cool.
Critical thinking 