The Shave

I’m well aware that this post will fall into the category of over share, but you know some of the most intimate details of my mind, so why not my body too! About an hour ago I shaved off a month of armpit hair (I wasn’t aloud razors in hospital). I suffered a bad reaction to the hair removal cream I used on my legs and I prefer to pay other people to wax me than make a mess of it myself, so that meant I just had to let it grow. I think this is the first time I’ve let it grow this long, it actually turned into hair rather than just stubble, I liked it. I’m often annoyed by the unacceptability of the hirsute woman; men chose to shave their faces, but it is rare for them to remove hair from anywhere else on their bodies. Women on the other hand aren’t allowed any hair except that on their heads and pubic region, but thanks to our child like imitation of porn and celebrity culture, even that is increasingly unacceptable. I note that removing hair from the armpits does reduce sweat, and that’s why I’ve done it even though it’s winter and few people are likely to get a glimpse of the area. But I would so like to have hairy legs without feeling like a freak. I’d like to stop stressing about removing any hint of a hair from my face and to have hairy armpits if I want them. I’d like to equate the word Brazilian to a person from Brazil and not an awful trend, which in my eyes infantilises the woman and encourages men to enjoy the child-like, rather than the mature woman before him.

The hirsute woman will remain an aberration unless slowly more and more women remain unshaved and don’t hide it. I’m not sure I have the strength to change the world; I’m not a purple clad, dreadlocked inner suburbanite. I’m just a slightly fat broken down woman currently residing in a dull Western suburb. If I went out with unshaven legs I’d just be taken for a lazy bogan, not a feminist trying to make life a little easier for women all over.