It's 40 degrees, therefore officially beach season, and everyone and their dogs are talking about pubic hair.
Okay, not everyone is talking about it, but many in my close circles (and in close circles of strangers sitting next to me at the Manx) are discussing their preferred treatment of nether regions. To remove or not to remove is the most basic dilemma anchoring these conversations (basic, though theoretically fascinating and intellectually stimulating to me) - the how/what/where questions take divergent paths from there.
My good friend and esteemed colleague has written on this topic for thesis work and I should note that I am recording the following musings without being exposed to much of her or others' theorizing. The thought-flow that follows will likely be substantiated after consulting with experts in the field! Here are my untamed reactions.
So, pubic hair. I can see my parents cringing right now. Fair enough (sorry parents), but I insist on this topic to point out: nearly all of our cultural taboos are related to genitalia in strange/unintuitive and problematic ways, especially to the sexualized parts/processes of women. Menstruation, for example, is a prominent component of most lives and goes literally undiscussed in the mainstream unless referred to as part of a sexist slur, or framed as an (grotesque) inconvenience. I flag this because I am complicit in intentionally erasing menstruating bodies, to my own dismay.
This topic recently came up with a male friend of mine when we discussed the Julyna campaign. Julyna, spearheaded by Vanessa Willson in Toronto, is a campaign for raising money and awareness for/of cervical cancer. A response to Movember, the idea is to draw attention to women's pubic hair choices as a playful way to highlight the severity of cervical cancer and risk-reduction via the HPV vaccine. The choice can be no choice at all (see the Barbara Bush design), but I see this as an almost laughable option, as the footer reads, "No one knows how she styles her pubic hair, but I'm assuming she's too busy to trim." Read: you should, at least, trim.
To me, the creators of Julyna are no fools to the controversial personal choices of pubic hair maintenance. Their message is carefully and inclusively crafted as they advocate "exercising creativity and personal wellness" for this fundraising technique. That said, the concept is fairly free of consideration for the sociopolitical implications of fundraising vis-a-vis choice of pubic hair design. On that, Gender Focus provides a compelling reflection.
In this case of women's grooming, I think an intersectional analysis of the forces and fall-outs is demanded. Whose bodies participate in Julyna? Whose bodies are unable to participate? Whose bodies will never know about it?
While I initially became giddy at the thought of displaying a button about pubic hair to raise questions and reject a taboo, I doubt whether the idea of Julyna is as playful for most people as its creators have in mind. Come to think of it, it's not that playful to me. Will the focus on these choices serve to isolate women from their own bodies? In anticipation of Movember comparisons, I do not think the Julyna project posits an approach to cancer awareness that is nearly as neutral as grooming facial hair (I should add that I don't think the grooming of men's facial hair is politically neutral), nor do I think grooming is a simple choice to make.
The practice of regular waxing, for example, is extraordinarily cultured, raced, abled and classed, but the 'playful' pressure to conform to some standard set of grooming practices as a way of performing some version of normative sexuality erases these exclusionary modes and, to me, obscures any choice we have. The choice becomes which kind of razor, machine, cream or wax, and at home or at spa, rather than no choice at all, and we're bombarded with the (unchosen?) set of choices every time we climb into the shower and look down.
To take a personal example (without going too far to protect my family members' sanity), I have found myself so confused (especially in adolescence, but a lot since then also) by perceived social expectations of the presentation of my own naked body that I feel profoundly distanced from any sense of what I might want for myself, in terms of look, experience and cost. In this case, I would argue that I have been so inundated by the relatively narrow dialogue about hair in mass media and social life that I feel isolated from my own desire. What could be worse?
When I was at UBC, a marxist feminist professor confessed to me that while she does put some effort into her appearance (she always looked incredibly punkrock cool as she lectured us) she resists gendered beauty pressure/myths by vowing to spend about the same amount of money on her appearance as does her average male colleague. Her simple commitment blew my mind, and I've since vowed to do the same. Backing off makeup expenditures is simple (and liberating if you ask me), but regular waxing appointments sort of blows the balanced budget out of the water.
I know my friends out there are more informed on this issue than I am, so please feel free to educate me! I'd love to start some dialogue.
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