Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts

Friday, June 25, 2010

Hey Cosmo, female shaved heads are not "skanky"

I thought this discussion ended once Britney's extensions blended in with some of her own hair...but I was wrong. I'm sure my readers remember when Allure magazine called bald a "beauty breakdown"--it spurred a heated blog post and a Facebook group in support of bald women. Now Cosmo wants to play.

In its July issue, Cosmo showcases a picture of Mel B--who rocks the half buzz--and impliedly calls a female shaved head "skanky" (as opposed to "sexy").

To be exact, men with "missing shirts" are "sexy," and women with "missing hair" are "skanky."

And Cosmo is just plain uneducated. Hegemonic gender performance is largely heteronormative and varies across cultures and throughout time. To say that two holes for a set of pearl earrings is "good" and one for an eyebrow piercing is "bad" demonstrates how inherently meaningless dominant cultural assessments actually are. Any assigned value would be a classist assessment (that wouldn't even be accurate in 2010 among a large portion of medium- to high-income urbanites).

Hair is a form of self-expression. It need not be so loaded. But in a gender-, race-, and class-stratified world, the shaved and half-shaved female head does carry a message. The message isn't "skanky" and it isn't "sexy"--it's "I do as I please."

It's no mystery that mainstream fashion magazines targeted to women (haven't analyzed those targeted to men) discourage high self-esteem (see overwhelming tips on caloric restriction, ab exercises, and photos of starving women)--but they pretend to champion the opposite. I don't buy the idea that flashing articles on sexual pleasure and career women makes an establishment empowering to women. I believe that loving women means encouraging them to be healthy, not hungry...to be active, not underweight...to recognize that being a woman means different things to different people.

I digress. The bottom line is, if Cosmo wants to pretend to care about independent, empowered women...it should respect the buzzer, not call it skanky.

Tell Cosmo what you think about female shaved heads here.

And speaking of the side shave, check out the actress in this video against commercial whaling.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Bald Miss Virginia

Miss Virginia Tara Wheeler said that she would shave her head if she could raise $500,000 for pediatric cancer research.

This only underscores how bald women are othered, tokenized, or seen as taboo. After all, what could be a more shocking ending than a "beautiful" woman gone bald to drive up donations?

I suppose bald is a either a beauty breakdown, or a vehicle of shock value.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

a critical viewing of G.I. JANE

The 1997 film G.I. JANE poignantly characterizes the binary dynamic that constructs male supremacy in opposition to female inferiority historically and in modern times. Misogyny is so pervasive in culture that the film takes for granted the audience’s understanding of sexism, and begins to unfold under the assumption—not the question of—female insubordination. What is more, the film skillfully interweaves social hierarchies of race and sexuality with sex and gender and implicitly reveals military power as a white, male, heterosexual domain. The basic story line revolves around Lt. Jordon O’Neil, who is reluctantly accepted into Navy SEAL training as a trial case to establish whether or not women can keep up with the “most intensive military training known to man.” The plot unfolds in the most hyper-masculine and elitist of institutions—the United States military—to underscore the deep-seated resentment of the female in “male” space and to dramatize Lieutenant Moore’s transformation from feminine to masculine.

As soon as G.I. JANE begins, it both complicates and confirms traditional ideas of power and politics. The film revolves around the arrangements of Senator Lillian DeHaven, who is able to secure the spot of one female to undergo Navy SEAL training with the understanding that if the trial woman passes, the training will become open to women. The Senator is marked by her strong personality, her tough politics, and her no-bullshit demeanor—culturally hailed as male aggression. Thus, her whiteness and her masculine approach grant her access to power, but at the same time, the audience is constantly reminded that the Senator is a woman. In one scene, she primps her hair in the mirror, while in another she is getting her hair colored. Accordingly, the implications of female political power must be subdued by reminders that she is in fact woman and therefore, never a man. Interestingly, the trope for the Senator’s femaleness—her hair—operates to further dramatize the famous hair-buzzing scene of Lieutenant O’Neil (Demi Moore) and mark her transformation from female to male. Senator DeHaven is also significant because her political impetus to push for female inclusion in training outlines a central theme in sexual socio-politics: only women care about women’s issues. This has deeper implications, namely because women’s issues seen as separate from human rights issues or general concerns of welfare reaffirm women as “others” and “the second sex.”

Though G.I. JANE presents itself as fighting for the rights of women, it is actually only fighting for the rights of specific kinds of women. In this sense, femaleness does not merit equality. It is merely the white, heterosexual, feminine female whose social privilege grants taboo access to male terrain. The audience learns early on in the film that only certain women are acceptable. As the Senator flips through photos of different female candidates to take on the Navy, she remarks that a more muscular and thick woman might need a “chromosome check,” inferring that a real woman looks feminine, and any hint of “male” qualities jeopardizes femaleness. Another picture of a more butch woman evokes the question “Is this what you want on the cover of Newsweek?” The message is clear: appropriate gender is crucial in maintaining femaleness, and for femaleness to ever rise in status, it cannot be tarnished with such unsightly features such a strength and width. Lt. O’Neil’s gender is also underscored as the film opens to mark her as an appropriate candidate for the trial, and also to emphasize her crossing over into maleness as the film progresses. The audience meets O’Neil wearing pearl earrings, a flawless bun, and gentle hues of makeup. When the audience learns at the end of the film that Senator DeHaven never expected or wanted O’Neil to succeed, but rather staged the attempt as a political ploy, DeHaven tells O’Neil that she does not really want the conditions of service, or to have to live in “third-world” countries. Implicit in her statement is the picture of O’Neil has a particular form of feminine that can not be outside in the rugged, but must be protected in appropriate realms of femaleness. In the case of the military, however, female territory can include intelligence operations, where it is suggested O’Neil returns. In this sense, it is not O’Neil’s mind that is degraded, it is specifically her body—her marker of femaleness—that insubordinates her.

Like femininity, the concept of masculinity is also heavily regulated in the film. On the one hand, G.I. JANE would like the viewer to think that the army is for men, but it is actually only for a particular hegemonic version of men. In one scene, the Master Chief calls his trainees “pencil dicks” when they are not performing up to his standards. Embedded within this insult, the audience learns that the military man is only as good as his penis. Men with inappropriately-sized phalluses do not have the goods to prove themselves un-female. This again casts women as the other. A second insult used in the film is “pretty boy.” Although the privileged version of a woman is one who is “feminine” and therefore “pretty”, as soon as this is projected onto a male, he is ridiculed, implicitly labeling him woman and/or gay. The policed dichotomy of male/female is ironic because it allows one idealized form as femaleness, but those same qualities are actually abhorrent when placed on male bodies. In this way, femaleness threatens what it means to be male, and compromises the power of maleness.

As expected in any context heavily infused with themes of gender and sex, sexuality plays a significant role in the film. The audience quickly learns that in the heterosexist landscape of the film, sexual deviance is grounds for ridicule and dismissal. When Senator DeHaven first interviews Lt. O’Neil to take on the trial position, the Senator asks if she “has a man.” She then unabashedly elaborates that if she were not heterosexual, the situation would blow up in their faces. This first dialogue discussing sexuality foreshadows the later twist in the plot where, in order to deal with O’Neil’s success in training, she is framed as a lesbian and dismissed on grounds of inappropriate behavior. While the military’s homophobia can at least be expected in a film seeking to portray its bigotry and exclusionary politics, even O’Neil herself participates in homophobia, angered that Senator DeHaven, who had staged the photos, would dare “smear” her “good name.” The audience learns from this that sexual minorities are an abomination. What is more, after O’Neil makes her transition into maleness, she shifts the power dynamic with her superior in a scene where they are engaged in an intense physical fight by saying “suck my dick.” All of her comrades cheer her on, revealing two factors: primarily, O’Neil now legitimately has a dick, because she has become a man. Secondly, a man sucking another man’s dick is the greatest insult.

Aside from sexuality, film visits the idea of race by talking about it, and by not talking about it. A fellow black trainee in the Navy SEAL training explains, in defense of O’Neil, that his grandfather could not serve to protect his country in WWII because of the color of his skin. He then tells O’Neil that she is the “new nigger on the block.” The comparison of black and female exclusion bears historical relevance, as abolitionism and first wave of feminism existed contemporaneously and fed off one another. It was also African American males who won the ballot before women, and who similarly had access to the Navy before women. This recognition of the civil rights movement is all well and good, but at the same time, G.I. Jane features a limited handful of token black characters, and portrays no other minority. It is basically a landscape of whiteness that, despite its recognition of minority oppression, still remains a hegemonic microcosm of race.

Viewed in harmony, the complexities of sex, gender, sexuality and race unfold in this movie to highlight O’Neil’s transition from a white, straight, female to a white, straight man. She first arrives at her training with her hair in a bun, placed in separate quarters, and training as an “other.” Her frustrations culminate to a point of intolerance, where she demands equal treatment. It is at this moment the audience sees her shaving her head, doing one-armed push ups, and sharing space with males. While in the beginning, the other men were uncomfortable by her tampons, later the audience watches as the doctor explains amenorrhea. While early on in the film, the audience understands white, male military power through the phallic cigar-smoking of anyone in uniform, by the time O’Neil is dismissed for being too successful, and thus too masculine, she too smokes a cigar on the patio. Accordingly, this is a film about privilege—who has it, who does not, and why. G.I. JANE presents itself as a film about men and women, but it is really about white, heteronormative men and women. It is a particular version of maleness that has the privilege and power of the United States military, and only a particular version of femaleness can dare take on a phallus and win inclusion.

Friday, October 26, 2007

elementally, my dear Watson

I was talking to a friend yesterday about my previously shaved head, how I feel about having hair now, and my intentions of shaving it again ultimately.

I was trying to explain my experience bald and why I was so happy with it, saying something along the lines of "I can't really describe it, but I felt like I was myself. I felt that it was really me..."

"--Elementally," she interrupted.

Yes, elementally. That is exactly it.

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

Allure magazine is GRAVELY mistaken


In its May issue, Allure magazine features BEAUTY BREAKDOWNS: Shaved heads, drastic cuts, Crazy dye jobs.

Why does buzzed head imply a beauty breakdown? I understand that Britney is batty, but one person's personal collapse and subsequent buzz job does NOT mean that a shaved head is a sign of degeneracy. Let's all give Allure a round of applause for reinforcing age-old cultural notions of femininity.

News flash: some women make rational choices to shave their heads. Yes, others may take out emotional issues on their dos...but let's not get the two confused.

I have purposefully chosen not to post pictures of myself on The Colonic, but I am really pissed that my favorite hair cut is being marketed as some sort of female pathology. So for my own sake and every other woman without hair, this is a CHOICE and I looked incredible.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Diary of a Shaven Head

I want to talk about how I feel right now in terms of my hair. But, in order to make this more genuine, I am pasting old entries to capture how I felt in the past, specifically after I just shaved my head, and then the re-growing process. Actually, these are from my personal journal--so this is rather revealing, (but don't get too excited, I still edited).

January 19, 2006

Diary of Shaven Head

I have taken for granted the sensations in my head without ever realizing it. What it is to feel the wind, to feel water, to feel touch…is so powerful. I have never felt these things, except I suppose as an infant. To suddenly have that ability back is overpowering.

A recovering cancer patient stopped me. She asked me why I buzzed my head, revealing she did it herself before chemotherapy took its toll. I was a bit uncomfortable at first—unsure why she would share this with me. But then she said, ‘and I joked to my kids, it was the first time I felt raindrops.” I don’t know why she would share that as a joke, because it is something so profound. Either way, in that moment, I connected with her.

I almost feel cheesy to say that I feel liberated now, here, like this. But the truth is, I feel more attractive now than I ever have. That is not to say there are not certain moments where I feel naked without my hair. I surprise myself when I feel that way. I understand why I would. My hair is some sort of safety net, some sort of social tool, some way to belong and have a place. But I don’t like that place, so I’m glad it’s gone, and I’m glad my hair is gone. And fuck the message, it just looks awesome. I feel empowered.

It also feels more intimate. I love when Seth touches my head.

October 24, 2006

I have not admitted this to anyone—but my short hair makes me feel invisible. When my head was shaved, I felt exquisite. But this awkward in-between length, socially associated so strongly with non-feminine, butch, unattractive--I feel it.

January 21, 2007

Like I said, the shaved head--loved it. Never felt better. The regrowth--let's just say I learned what it feels like to be the female-outcast, the awkward butch. What's interesting is that I don't even buy into that junk. I love and respect gender benders incredibly, and I do not even believe in compulsory heterosexuality. But I still felt what it means to not look the way you are "supposed" to. This is not to say that people stopped speaking to me, but it is this feeling I cannot explain. Really makes you feel for people who are marginalized for being or looking differently.

Anyway, that is in the past as well. My hair has left the incredibly-awkward phase, and is on the way back to girly town. Although I loved my bare head, I miss having my long, wavy hair with snarls and baby dreads and bed head. So here I am, trying to get my long hair back.

But the thing is, now that I have long-enough hair again, I feel the same (as every one else).

I suppose that is the same as being invisible, in a different form. And it's really bothering me.

I have decided that I do need my shaved head again. It is only a matter of when. Honestly, I want to get my long hair back just out of curiosity. I want to know if it will feel the same as it did before.

If I had time, I would talk about how hair is a social tool of conformity, both racist and gendered. But I have so much work to do...