The Joy of Hairy Armpits
Reflections on a Year of Letting it Grow

I’ve always been a hairy person. As a woman of East Asian descent, I feel like an anomaly among my peers. While I see a bunch of my friends and family with only an elegant wisp here and there, here I am with like four coarse hairs growing out of a single pore.
As a result, throughout high school and much of college, I had a lot of anxiety about having any visible armpit hair at all. I would shave almost every day during the warmer months and if I didn’t, I would plan my clothes out so that my sleeves would cover the vile dark locks escaping my body. For extra measure, I would keep my arms locked down against my sides so that I would not accidentally lift them and expose the spiky, newly grown hair down there.
The anxiety came from a weird place too. I wasn’t that anxious about having my family or my closest friends see me with a little underarm fuzz. I was more worried about something that was far more abstract, like whether I was fulfilling an ideal of attractiveness or what “the public” would think of me if they saw that I had any armpit hair. While my feminist self knew that women (including myself) ought be liberated from these oppressive norms, in reality, I had convinced myself that women with armpit hair would be deemed ugly and repellent by society and therefore, unloveable. I felt like I would literally die alone if I didn’t shave. I believed that people would not take me seriously if they saw that I had a bit of armpit hair.
Throughout college, a couple of things started to change my views around my armpit hair. First, my skin seemed to become more sensitive to shaving, making razoring it up in a college dorm a pretty unpleasant experience. Furthermore, even when I shaved a lot, I realized that it wasn’t possible for me to actually get my armpits to become completely smooth. I could always still see the dark follicles ready to peak out from under my skin even after only 1 hour of shaving. Second, during a debate tournament in Malaysia, I met a girl who disproved my beliefs on attractiveness and armpit hair. She walked around confidently wearing a brightly colored spaghetti strap dress, dark hair covering her legs and underarm fuzz fully grown. She looked so free and happy… and beautiful. I was awed by her, but still could not find the confidence to do it myself.
Finally, my move to Paris to study abroad slowly made me abandon the whole hairless armpit enterprise. Being in a large city with so many strangers around me, I realized that it didn’t matter what people thought about my armpit hair. They probably wouldn’t look in the first place, but even if they did, their negative thought wouldn’t impact me in any significant way. France also felt like a much more “hair friendly” culture. While it seemed like most women shaved, it didn’t feel like as much of an imperative as it is in the US. So, I let it grow…

Now
After over a year of keeping the long dark tufts below my arms, I’ve definitely grown more confident. While I still feel a bit shy sometimes about it being seen by new people I meet (reapplying the lock-down technique), I would have to say that overall, it is one less thing that makes me anxious day to day. I can choose the clothes I wear regardless of armpit hair length. From my experience, it hasn’t really impacted my romantic life, which was one of the biggest things I was afraid of. In addition, my armpit hair has actually come to take on a few practical functions, much to my surprise:
- Potential Asshole Filter
While the likelihood of me dating somebody instantly repelled by a girl with armpit hair was pretty low in the first place, this has probably given me guaranteed success in that area. Now I can focus on other indicators of a person’s character, such as how they treat the waiter or their personal life philosophies. This is definitely something that the hair that grows on my head can’t do. - Conversation Starter
It is odd to me how often such a natural bodily process gets read by others as a radical political statement. Watching people try to hide their initial shock when seeing a vibrant undergrowth is almost a little entertaining. In non-professional/formal situations, a number of folks I’ve met have jumped at the opportunity to address it in some way, looking at me curiously as I explain my thought process behind leaving my hair there. I often see confused faces as if searching for some sort of satisfactory justification for letting it grow. Only after one year, I’ve had multiple full length conversations about my armpit hair. It seems like an omission (not shaving) can stir as much interest as a positive action (such as going out to protest).
At the end of the day, for me, it really is about fulfilling my true preferences. Simple as that. I dislike shaving my armpits and felt a lot of anxiety surrounding it. So I stopped. The fact that it also gets seen as a feminist battlecry in some situations is a side benefit for me, since I identify with feminism. But apart from politics, I would still advocate for people to choose their beauty routines in a way that satisfies their interests and needs. For example, I shave my legs when I feel like it. - Deeper Inquiry and Connection
One day, I worse a sleeveless shirt to my Language Tables waitressing shift. One of the other waitresses, who I was friendly with, came up to me and said “Nice armpit hair!”. She then proceeded to lift her arms and show her long blonde armpit tufts to me, smiling. At that moment, I felt a much deeper connection with her, as if she knew something about me that even some of my closest friends didn’t. It was kind of touching and personal. I wasn’t alone. She was beautiful. We became friends in a much deeper sense than before.
“I heard that there is something with White privilege and armpit hair though,” she commented. I hadn’t thought about it before, but bits of my experience started to make more sense to me. “Yeah, I guess there are two aspects to it,” I replied. “First, white people tend to have finer and lighter hair, so it isn’t as obvious.” I thought about my light tan skin and course black strands. “Second, people probably associate white women not shaving their armpit hair with feminist empowerment, while they might see my armpit hair and associate it with a lack of social knowledge or ‘foreign-ness’, being Asian.” It was true. I was (and still am) deathly scared of people thinking that my armpit hair was not an intentional decision. Like I just didn’t know better. I feel like there would be some book or paper about this by now. I haven’t sought it out though.
Overall, my friends have been supportive about my armpit hair. I’ve also learned a lot about the history of shaving and the way razor companies in the early 1900s basically shamed women into shaving regularly so they can sell more products. Great how sexism/capitalism can intersect to make women feel bad about themselves! Some good reads here and here.
On the flip side, I didn’t expect my mom to give me so much pressure to shave. For a while, she thought it was just a phase, but now she often reminds me about how unattractive it is and that I should shave it off next time I shower. When I try on clothes, she never forgets to remind me, “This would look so great on you — you just need to shave your armpits!” I’ve gotten pretty good at ignoring it, but it can be a bit grating at times.

Future
So what comes next for my armpit hair? Who knows. Maybe I’ll shave them one day. I’ve seen a couple of people dye their armpit hair hot pink, and it looks really cool. Definitely considering that (especially since it would alleviate my fears of being perceived as lazy or foreign). At the same time, I don’t want to irritate the sensitive skin I have down there.
Most importantly, it’s a decision that I get to make. I think going against conventional beauty trends has made me more resistant to taking actions that I don’t particularly enjoy due to societal pressure or cultural norms. In some ways, I lose privilege by having an armpit full of hair. Perhaps my erotic capital goes down. But I gain time and freedom, and to me, that’s worth it.
