The Need to be Hairless

I sat with my friend Phil last night and we talked about the time I lived in San Francisco, which was several years ago. Perhaps it's in the air over there, but there is a part of you that becomes a little "hippie", whether you are one or not. I told Phil how I let my hair grow out; I stopped shaving, plucking, waxing, threading - the works!

Phil stared at me blankly, his glass of wine danging in his hand.

"You didn't shave your underarms?"

"No, I didn't Phil. I didn't shave anything. I didn't even pluck my eyebrows."

Phil looked horrified.

"That's...wrong. You...you shave now, right?"

Yes, I do, Phil.

I went home that night wondering where we are in this day and age when even a liberal friend is horrified by the possibility of hair under your arms. I look back at that time as a freeing period in my life. I felt a little closer to my natural self - raw, real, organically me.

I think people seemed less freaked out by the underarm hair (especially in San Francisco) but were somewhat offput by the hair above my lip. Apparently on Frida Kahlo can get away with that.

Eventually, I went back to my "smooth as a baby" way but still contemplate why - why I feel I am more acceptably "female" by removing the hair that rightfully belongs on me. And women aren't the only recipient of this hairless wonder. Men seem to be shaving and waxing their chests in droves. The day of the 70's man with his unbuttoned shirt and hair peaking over seem to be gone.

And what's the underlying message about all this hairlessness? Are we attempting to return to some version of our infantile state? Do we feel "dirty" with hair on our body and need to cleanse and purify? If this is the case, why not shave our heads and be as "cue ball" clean as possible?

I know I always liked the feel of hair on a man's chest. It felt extra "manly" to me. And I know that time in San Francisco was special to me. And friends like Phil seem a little more close-minded than I had once thought.