Feminism has led me to question myself a lot about my body hair. For feminism, the body is a central issue in the discourse, because control over people defined as “women” is exercised through a specific control over the body and how it is used.
A control that passes through clothing, “feminine” aesthetics, through how women should comb their hair, wear makeup or not, color their hair or not, be thin or not, wear heels or not and have children or not.
I still remember that at a certain point in my life, around the age of 15, my older sister told me “It’s time you started waxing”, with a smile almost satisfied by the fact that I too had to start the torture that is waxing. Suffering in order to be liked. From a girl to a woman.
I remember that up until then my body hair had never been a problem. My mother often told me that when I was born I had a whole strip of blond hair that covered my spine, and beautiful long blond hair that covered my ears and I smiled, almost proud of this peculiarity of mine.
Then I was introduced to the “feminine” doctrines in which it is written that a woman must not have hair, or rather she must not show it in public, especially if it is black and long. Horror.
I have never shaved in the winter, only my armpits. I shaved my legs for the first spring outings or if I had to show myself in public with my legs uncovered. The hair never bothered me.
I have always considered myself “lucky” because I am blonde and have a fairly dark complexion, so the blonde hair is barely visible.
I have never shaved my arms, I know that many women do it, but for my generation the arms were a part that could be left unshaven and in any case the blonde hair is barely visible there too. In fact, I always liked them when I had tanned skin, it seemed like I had an extra shine on my skin.
My pubic area and legs had to be strictly shaved if I showed them in the summer. Or if I had some romantic encounter with some male. If it was a boyfriend, however, he had to love me natural too, so the “hair” concern definitely took a back seat. Isn’t it absurd? Shaving just for the gaze of others, I mean.
I remember one day several years ago, I must have been 19, when I went to the swimming pool and realized upon entering that I had completely forgotten to shave my pubic area. I was in complete panic and didn’t even understand what my friends were telling me. Revealing this thing or showing myself was a source of great shame for me. How could I hide it?
I put on my swimsuit anyway, but I spent the day hiding the “area” in every way, so that no one would notice that I had hair on my body. A day lived in anxiety, ruined by pubic hair. Or rather ruined by the shame I felt in having that hair. The good thing is that no one was looking at me, I was the only one who felt the shame.
But who had instilled that shame in me? Why should I be ashamed of an aspect of my body that I accepted without any problem when I was alone and looked at myself?
Why can a man walk around with his body covered in hair and I can’t? Why is it “not beautiful” for a woman? And who established that?
During the period in which I embraced feminism I questioned myself a lot about my body. I asked myself how much I love it, how much I accept it and how much I modify it just to be accepted by other people. I stopped wearing makeup a while ago, because it bothers me to have my skin all smudged, and I realized that I’ve always shaved only for others, not for myself.
What I like about my body is my muscular legs, I also like my hands when you can see the big and swollen veins, I like my calves when they are trained after many walks and you can see the muscle well. I look at my hair from the knee down and it is black and long, scattered and not regular, it thins out until it is no longer there in the area of theankle. I caress them. Why shouldn’t I like them? They’re part of me.
I’ll talk about bras in another article: I’ve always had small breasts and at a certain point I asked myself why I had to wear a bra even though I didn’t need one. The answer, apart from the rare times I run and wish I had one, was that I wore them so my nipples wouldn’t be visible through them. Do you realize the conditioning we’re forced to live with?
Last summer, for the first time, I went to the beach in my swimsuit without shaving my legs. I don’t know if others noticed, but I wanted to see how I would react. I was always thinking about my unshaven legs. Not that I was ashamed, on the contrary I felt a great relief, but I didn’t feel completely okay. More than anything the hair doesn’t stay stuck to the leg, so if someone points their eye they can be seen, but shouldn’t I care?
Last summer I never shaved my legs, I walked far and wide with the hair showing, in shorts, in the city and in the mountains, and at a certain point I didn’t think about it anymore. Only on the beach did it make a certain impression on me.
Maybe because my usual summer routine regarding hair has always been: a wax at the beginning of the season, so I can go without for a while, an emergency silk-epil when I see it starting to grow, but then when I’m a little tanned and it’s less visible I start to not care a bit. But I had never “grown” black hairs, I had always removed those. Last summer I even cleared those.
The thought is always there: what if someone notices? Will they think I’m a dirty person? Unkempt? Who doesn’t wash? Can you imagine if someone came there and told me I have long hair on my legs? Well, my answer would be: “What do you care?”
In a few days, and it’s winter, I’m going to the spa with friends. I’ll have to wear a swimsuit, I’m not hairless. So what should I do? Subject myself to the pain of a silk-epil? A razor? I’ve decided not to shave my legs, but I can’t do it for my pubic area, I’d really like to have a swimsuit with shorts and get that out of my way.
Why do men wear swimsuits with shorts and women don’t? Should I look for a culotte swimsuit for the summer? Isn’t there a normal shorts? Why do I have to look sexy in a swimsuit? Can’t I just be comfortable?
Out of curiosity, I looked online to see if there is at least a swimsuit with shorts for women and I found the Decathlon website. In the ad for the shorts, 3 girls are walking side by side, and the one wearing the shorts is the “chubbiest”.
Do you think it’s pure coincidence that the “chubbiest” model is wearing the shorts? What do you think the image is trying to suggest? But let’s get back to the topic of hair.
Today, while chatting with a friend, I told him that I had no intention of shaving to go to the spa and he said to me: “Mmmm, well, I don’t like women with hair, you know, I still remember years ago seeing German women on the beach with hair on their legs…” and he made a noise of disgust. And this is a male who is neither stupid nor bad, he is a male who is above average in intelligence.
What if I were a person who was insecure about my appearance? What would I do? Would I shave because “women with hair can’t be seen”? What if I had dermatitis and couldn’t shave? Would I spend an evening at the spa feeling ashamed? Why can’t people be any body without being judged?
I want to be FREE. I want to be able to go around wherever I want without being judged. The concept of “decorum” disgusts me. I don’t care if in certain contexts it is customary to dress up in a certain way. Am I hurting anyone with MY hair?
And I don’t care if some women like to shave and see themselves without hair, completely free to do so. But it must be a personal choice, and like any choice about one’s body it must be unquestionable and cannot be criticized or judged.
My armpitsand, the last time I went to a beautician, they were called “important”. I’ve always shaved them, so I have a nice little bush. My hair doesn’t bother me, not even there, and I don’t think it’s “unhygienic” to keep it long, in fact I feel like I sweat a lot more when I shave it. But I can’t go out in the summer without a shaved armpit, or at least with the hair shortened.
The freedom to keep my beloved hairswithout having to modify my body to please others is still far away for me. But at the same time I’ve made great strides, especially watching other women who already do it and are happy. I have learned to love every detail of my body, and I don’t want to change it.
The road to liberation from patriarchal indoctrinations, which has lasted for millennia, is long and everyone travels it at their own pace and only if they want to, but sometimes I think about how absurd it is to have to feel ashamed for a hair’s breadth. You should feel ashamed when you hurt someone in the body or mind, not when you welcome your body and love it for what it is. This is my thought.
