A Lack of Hair and Intention

Liz Itkowsky
Aug 23, 2017 · 3 min read

The other night I saw a friend who told me her sister had cut her hair very short. This friend, who has short hair, was telling me as someone else who has short hair. “She said the same thing you said! ‘Now I just feel bad for people who don’t have short hair’.” I don’t recall saying that, but it’s certainly something I think, when seeing women with long perfectly tousled waves walking around in 90% humidity with one less hour of sleep. It’s gorgeous, I get it. The long Botticelli manes, Victoria Secret-style bombshell curls — the appeal is not lost on me. But the ease of insouciance outweighs meticulous feminine upkeep. I still shell out for expensive products, pricey highlights and haircuts. I’m stylish and I like to appear put together. However, managing tresses flowing past my shoulders is not part of the appearance equation.

Short hair can be very polarizing. A cursory internet search will bring up a slew of opinions, all dripping with sociological implications. These arguments, for and against women’s need for long hair are not made by women alone. Men seem to have a lot of skin in this game. My own mother, a self-proclaimed feminist, was always in the long hair camp. It was my father’s preference, her father’s preference, and she felt safe behind long locks. As a girl, I had extremely long hair, cascading the entire way down to my waist. But from early on, it didn’t suit me. I maintained a bob through high school and graduated to a pixie in my mid 20s. My hair has not been past my shoulders since. An anathema to men, this pixie did not render me chaste, as the internet would have you believe (purely anecdotal, but worth noting, in case you’ve put stock in the Red Pill mindset). Though searches turn up opinions like, “women with short hair are damaged and unfuckable”, I believe my hair has little to do with the fact that I will never sleep with a Men’s Rights Activist. Perhaps I live in a world where men are still shallow enough to let my great body overshadow how little hair is on my head, or maybe even respect some small aspect of my existence aside from the superficial?

I do not think my hair says as much about me as one would believe. There are always comments on how, “I could never pull that off” and “you’re so brave”. Neither makes much sense. I am extremely risk-avderse, not brave. I do not like to be uncomfortable. I won’t go on water slides or roller coasters — hair grows back but arms don’t. As far as “pulling it off”, I’m not certain what to make of that. I’m able to appear normal with a hideous haircut? Am I so beautiful, despite the abhorrent lack of hair, that it’s worth mentioning?

Comments aside, having short hair is worth all the extra implied baggage. There are frequent hair cuts to keep it from wandering into 90’s hockey player territory. But overall, upkeep is minimal. I rarely wash it, and when I do, a big dollop of any old hair product makes my hair look “styled”. If it’s a mess when I wake up, I wet it and start over again. Only on the coldest days I use a hair dryer. It’s my *little secret* — how little time I spend on my appearance can be used for more fulfilling activities like watching Instagram stories or eating a grapefruit over the garbage can.

People believe there is a deeper relationship to hair. Like a monk, I’ve freed myself from one superficial trapping, but in doing so have made plenty of room for others (big earrings!). My statement haircut makes a more subtle declaration than other exterior choices. My choppy, brunette pixie is an afterthought, intentionally careless, and purposeful in its absence.

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Liz Itkowsky

Written by

Pretty poems for bleak times.

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