The Specter of Excess

Gracie Hall

            This morning I woke up an hour before class. I crawled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. In the shower I washed and conditioned my hair, scrubbed my body, and shaved. After, I washed my face, applied a face cream, put on lotion, deodorant, mascara and lip balm. I brushed my hair, blow-dried it half way so it wouldn’t get the back of my shirt wet, put on jewelry (big earrings) and my clothes for the day. This whole process took me about half an hour, and the collective price of my beauty products were around $200. Now seemingly, I could have skipped breakfast and instead, just rolled out of bed five minutes before the start of class. All I would have had to do was put on shoes and socks and grab my backpack; this was, however, not what I did. Almost every piece of that morning ritual is completely necessary. One day I might skip the earrings or lip balm, but nothing else is optional. It’s not a choice; it’s a required practice. Despite the fact that I have sovereignty over my body, I am unable to choose to not partake in my morning body-altering practices.

            In Breanne Fahs and Denise A. Delgado’s article, “The Specter of Excess: Race, Class and Gender in Women’s Hair Narratives” the question of choice was raised once more. Originally we heard in Wolf’s “The Beauty Myth” that we have become enslaved by our consumer oriented society into the unspeakable ‘beauty myth’. Therefore we (women) have no choice. Ingrid Banks reaffirmed this when she explained in “Hair Matters” that African-American women are enslaved by white ideals of femininity; even if they don’t conform they really don’t have a choice either way if they are influenced by these ideals of femininity. Last week, through the lens of male beauty work in Japan, we had to ask ourselves if the men of that culture are enslaved in their own ‘beauty myth’, ultimately I decided that they most certainly are. Finally, in Rebecca Herzig’s “The Political Economy of Choice: Genital Modification and the Global Cosmetic Services Industry” we were exposed to another question of choice. By deconstructing waxing, we realized that for most women hair removal is not a choice. It was this final idea that Fahs and Delgado’s article really expanded on.

            What choice do we have to be seen as feminine or not? Femininity as set in place by this article is a collection of ideals created by white, middle-class women. Hairlessness is directly correlated with femininity, tameness, docility, and immaturity where as women who didn’t shave were considered dirty, animal-like, manly lesbians. Women commenting on hairy women said they were “less attractive, intelligent, sociable, happy and positive compared with hairless women”. This however, is a recent change, Fahs and Delgado state that before the 1920’s few westerners removed body hair, and that it wasn’t until advertisements of the 30’s did hair removal become a social convention, and not just any social convention, but the one that more women hold themselves to than any others: thinness, long hair, makeup, and manicured nails.

            To further examine this concept, Fahs suggested in one of her gender studies class a small extra credit project in which the female members of her class wouldn’t shave for 12 weeks, and her male students would shave for that same period of time, this included legs, underarms, and the pubic region. They were required to keep a daily log, and write a paper at the end of the semester. Although not all of her students initially wanted to join in the experiment, a new ‘norm’ persuaded all of them to participate so that they could be included in the comradery of the exercise. They all banned together to take on this issue of choice, this issue of femininity, this issue of hair.

            What made this particular experiment unlike any other was that it had the intention of focusing on race, class, and gender implications of growing body hair. Although all the girls changed their behaviors (different clothes, more hygienic/beauty products, less/no sex, staying home more often) girls of different races experienced different, more intense feedback. For example Ana said, “My hair grew thick and coarse…white girls had it easier… I felt like people would think I was a ‘dirty Mexican’…people would connect my body hair to my being a lesbian or a Mexican.” And Cecelia said, “I come from a family that didn’t have much money…I’m always careful about coming across as respectable and clean, just so I don’t confirm all of those stereotypes people have about me as dirty and low class.” And finally Sharron, “ As a black woman, I know what it’s like to be looked down upon by white people. I don’t need to be made aware of that any more that I already am.” Each of these women, and surly more felt that because of their race, the growth of body hair was seen as much more offensive and wrong.

            The backlash to these reactions not only changed their daily behavior but also their presentation of self. These women began to overcompensate to ‘prove’ their femininity. Ana said, “I found myself wearing makeup more often, at first unconsciously… I started because I didn’t want anyone to think that I didn’t ‘take care of myself’.” By violating one social norm they “may enforce other social norms more intensely, such that women of color and working-class women may adopt more traditional norms of femininity even as they violate norms of hairlessness” (19). This one little change of not shaving, can set off ripples and ripples of change throughout the beauty industry, it can create or decrease demand, change accepted norms (as is the case of Fahs’ class), and alter our reality.

            White women said that this exercise opened up a whole new window of privilege for them that they hadn’t before realized, and made these women realized that “idealized femininity” is represented by white, middle-class women. All these women, however, despite differences in race all had similarly painful reactions from their romantic partners. Interactions were described as “dismissive”, “homophobic”, “controlling”, and almost all romantic partners (even if not directly) asked them to stop. Ultimately these post experimental reflections proved to be both painful and freeing. Women said they became more aware of their personal choice, reevaluated romantic partners and friends, observed the patriarchal consumerist-driven society, learned about the power of hair, and collectively suggested that “not shaving added a layer of bodily oppression to the stigma they already experienced as lower status women and because, for women of color, their hair was darker, coarser, and more pronounced from white women’s hair.” In the end not only did this article and experiment confront issues of choice, but also gender, race, and class.