I was born bald, or rather with that newborn baby hair fuzz. My hair didn't grow much more than that until I was 2 years old, so my mom taped bows to my hair to indicate that I was a girl. After it started growing, (my parents and) I just let it, so that I had hair down to my behind for most of my life. Constantly complimented for my hair, I never quite understood knowing only the pain inflicted on my scalp when my mom would comb my hair out after a shower. 'No More Tangles' never quite lived up to its name, leaving my snarl-prone hair rather knotty. The summer before my sophomore year in high school, when I was twelve, I decided to ditch some of the weight, chopping off two feet of hair. With my new shoulder-blade length 'do, I was, for the first time, actually able to take care of my own hair, brushing and styling it myself. I graduated high school with my hair about the same length, but I soon started having it cut shorter and shorter.During my sophomore year of college, when my hair was between two and four inches long, I started cutting it myself a total catastrophe in hindsight, although I didn't much care at the time. The front looked fine, but the back which I never had to see was shaggy in parts and much shorter in others. When I finally shaved my head, it was only after several years of repressing the desire to do so. Whenever I was due for a hair cut, I would moan and whine about wanting to shave my head, while claiming my non-possession of clippers as reason for not shaving it. I often teased Kellee, my best friend and roommate, that she would return home to find me shaving my head to the music of the Martinis' 'Free' (from the scene in Empire Records).What I craved, though, was the freedom and ease that I imagined a shaved head would bring, and also the complete other-ness it represented for me, in a slightly confused counter-culture sort of way. I was living in Dublin, Ireland when I finally did the deed, during my junior year abroad. I had been telling my friends about my plans for some time and, to my surprise, three friends had shaved their heads before: an Irishwoman, a Finn, and a Dane. Spurred on by their encouragement, I went with Hilppa, my Finnish friend, to the barber. There, I had to do my own encouragement: the barber was somewhat unwilling to shave my head, repeating simply that it would be 'awfully tight.' I left the barber's, much colder for the loss of body heat, but grinning at the amazing feeling of the wind blowing through my, indeed, very 'tight' hair. Besides my friends, I didn't get too many comments about my hair. I was highly disappointed until one day on a bus a woman referred to me as a 'man,' then, upon further inspection, corrected it to a 'lady.' The rest of the ride, she kept making eyes at me, I imagine, to apologize for the error. It took all I had to not burst into laughter at her slip. After that, I overheard many more such blunders. Working as a server at Frisch's Big Boy this past summer, I would often leave a table, only to be regaled by a five year-old squealing "is that a boy or a girl?" The best little-kid-comment, though, was from one sitting in front of me at a Cleveland Indians game this past summer. He understood both that I was a girl and that I had a "buzzcut," but he couldn't grasp how the two could possibly coexist. As our very own Christa Donner said, just imagine if he had seen her furry armpits or legs! The only way I have found to respond to such confusion or misinterpretation regarding my gender has been through laughter. With a haircut like mine, I'm virtually courting some sort of disturbance. For my own sake, I save myself from embarrassment by laughing. Although I'm considering growing my hair out due to some sick twist of fate, I now crave long hair I definitely appreciate my current hair style. I do have to shave it every three weeks or so to keep it from being too scruffy (I own my own clippers now) and I am continually thwarted when I want to dress it up a little. But it is extremely easy to take care of and, more importantly, I love the fact that I'm exposing kids to a wee bit of gender-bending. If anything, they're having to rethink their ideas about what makes a woman or a man and what the options are for women and for men when it comes to such things as hairstyle. Finally, I've learned that women can be, and are, beautiful regardless of their haircut. No longer hiding behind my hair, I face the world with strength and defiance. |
Bzzz Factor one chick's choice to show some skin by Julie Setele |
