The Bush is Back, Baby!
Why I ditched my razor and maybe you can too.
Are you uncomfortable by the idea of women embracing their naturally-occurring body hair without any shame? Then this edition of the newsletter might not be for you! That’s totally okay, my own mother is still horrified by this concept!
But if you’re in the “your body, your choice” camp, read on for a brief history of women’s body hair removal and why I’ve decided to simply abstain from this odd ritual.
I was taught that body hair on a woman is gross and bad and something to be removed immediately.
I am half Middle Eastern, which means I came into this world with a full head of dark, thick hair. See below for photo proof. I’ve had dark, thick hair on my arms and legs for as long as I can remember, and in the third grade (I was 8 years old!!!!!) I started to feel a whole lotta shame about it.
Which makes total sense. We live in a society where women’s beauty standards are constantly policed and it’s almost impossible to meet all of the criteria imposed on us. So I, the go-getter that I am, decided to take matters into my own hands.
I used my mom’s razor (looking back, this is so gross, I’m sorry mom) and tried the best that my little 8-year-old self could to remove the hair from my legs. My mom immediately noticed that her razor had been used and taught me how to properly and safely shave my legs. And thus began years and years of removing body hair in an attempt to simply exist as a woman.
And then, of course, puberty came and I started to grow dark, thick hair in all the other parts of my body where hair naturally grows. I did my best to remove it, but anyone who has hair like this knows it’s a tedious, often frustrating process requiring patience, a super sharp razor, and mad determination.
I remember when I started high school, I didn’t know that people were shaving their pubic hair too, until word got out that some girl in our class had a bush and that was SUCH! A! BIG! DEAL! At the time, I wasn’t sexually active, but I knew I never wanted anyone to talk about me that way, so you can probably guess what I did when I got home.
Thus began at least 10 years of weekly shaving, which was always so annoying to me, but felt like something you just did without any thought because it was an expectation of being a woman in this world.
A brief history of women’s body hair removal
I was curious how this expectation came to be, so I did a little research into why and when women started shaving.
Hair removal dates back to ancient civilizations like Egypt, Greece, and Rome. Egyptian women used sugaring and pumice stones to remove hair, considering a smooth body a sign of cleanliness and social status.
But once the Middle Ages rolled around, hair removal became less of a focus. In the 18th and 19th centuries, shaving was mostly associated with men. Women typically didn't remove body hair, except for slight grooming.
The shift to the modern standard we uphold today began in the early 1900s, resulting from changes in modesty and fashion. As sleeveless dresses and shorter hemlines became more popular, underarm and leg hair became more visible.
In 1915, in an attempt to tap into a larger audience, Gillette introduced the first women’s razor, the Milady Décolleté. Through a huge marketing effort by Gillette, magazines and advertisements started portraying hair-free skin as more feminine, clean, and attractive, fueling the idea that body hair was undesirable and marking the beginning of body hair removal as an expectation.
This standard has continued without much question for the last 110 years, with ever-changing style and beauty expectations continuously maintaining the pressure for women to remain hair-free.
“Why don’t you shave?”
If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me this question, I probably wouldn’t be worried about one-employment right now. I know that most people mean well when they ask and are genuinely curious about it, but I always have the same answer.
It was 2020, and I was at the beach with a big group of friends, some I knew and some I did not. A friend of my friends, a woman who looked just like me with thick, dark hair and olive skin, so proudly walked around in a bikini with - gasp - visible and abundant body hair!
It was the first time I saw someone who openly did not shave, but still radiated beauty and confidence. She’s truly one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen and I don’t even think she knows my name. Ah, queer yearning at its finest. Topic for a different newsletter.
Anyways, after seeing how that woman could be both beautiful and hairy, it started to shift the way I looked at myself and my own body hair. What would happen if I just… stopped shaving and portrayed that same level of confidence?
So I just kinda stopped shaving. First it started with my legs, but then I stopped shaving my pits and pubes too. Because fuck it, who cares? I have bigger things to worry about than my naturally occurring body hair.
FAQs about not shaving
Here are some questions that I get from well-meaning people who are curious about my decision to embrace my body hair.
Isn’t it unsanitary?
Uh, no. Body hair is natural and serves several functions, including regulating body temp, reducing friction, and providing a barrier against bacteria and irritants. The belief that body hair is unhygienic is largely a result of marketing campaigns that framed hair removal as essential for cleanliness and femininity. In reality, keeping or removing body hair is purely a personal preference, not a hygiene requirement.
Does it itch?
Not really, actually. I’ve found that it itches more when it’s growing out after being shaved.
What if you want to sleep with someone?
Can’t say I’ve ever gotten into bed with someone who was grossed out by my body hair, but if it did ever get to that, you’re kind of a fucking loser for refusing to sleep with someone who embraces their natural body and its functions. I wouldn’t really want to be naked around someone like that anyway.
Do you get more body odor with hairy pits?
I haven’t found this to be true, but I just wear deodorant like every other normal adult and it seems to be fine.
Do you EVER shave?
Yeah! I’d say every six months I’ll do a little trim with an electric razor (the one men use for their faces) but it’s definitely not a priority for me. I’ve found that deprioritizing shaving saves me a ton of time in the shower and money from buying razor blades (which are SO EXPENSIVE for no reason???)
For me, abstaining from shaving is just as much about giving the patriarchy the middle finger as it is simply avoiding a silly inconvenience. I’m not here to tell you what to do with your body, but I hope that perhaps reading this opened your mind to the idea that it’s okay to challenge modern beauty standards and choose which ones you’d like to follow.
💛 CJK
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