Growing up with my hairy chin
I usually feel like I'm preaching to the choir when I use this blog as a chance to rant with little form or structure about whatever issue is niggling me at the time. And usually I'm not saying much that anyone wouldn't have read in a newspaper column, if it's not me droning on about the hilarity of Engrish or Japanese brand names (I will miss Cat Smack, though). But there remain so many things that no-one feels comfy talking about. I've only ever spoken about my eating problems in veiled terms, even if it might be a fruitful point of discussion for others. That's not what I want to talk about, as it exhausts me and has thankfully drifted from the central frame of my thinking, as it did for a ridiculously long time. But another recent example has brought into question the ability to talk about things in PC, abstract terms and then in reference to ones own feelings and perversities. I talk often of hypocrisy and double standards, but stop the discussion by saying 'oh well, we're all hypocritical, what a sad way of the world'. When it comes to internal struggles between principle and the hazy realm of emotion and self-awareness, things often fail even to reach the surface.
I was teaching the new yochien-sei for the first time. I rarely teach kindergarten and it's actually quite a harrowing experience at first- some of the kids are terrified of you and cry, or stare you down, or pull your skirt up or stick a green pea up their nose and blow it at you. Or wet themselves. Or worse. God, children. But this week one little boy asked 'are you a man or a woman?'. This is where learning Japanese starts to become tiresome- you are torn from your veil of protective misunderstanding and exposed to the harsh innocence of childrens' opinions. That, as they flick my bingo wings, my arms are so 'meaty' they swing even when I'm holding them still. That I must have a baby in there. That I have a beard. The latter is an example of the last taboos and myths that pervade our society and its gendered standards of beauty. Fat people parade, proud to be fat and demanding the right to be recognised as beautiful and seen, rather than greedy and lazy. That's another issue that's been discussed to the hilt, but facial hair gets less of a spotlight, I think. In Japan, it's probably expected for a little boy to point at my hairy chin and think it's wierd, cos women just don't have hairy faces, except for a few unfortunate exceptions, but it's interesting that they immediately link that to a question of my gender, seeing as bearded men are also something of a rarity.
So, as something rather petty and meaningless (which is why it shouldn't be a big deal) yet whose dull acceptance as something significant of the rigidity of gender, I find myself wondering whether I should stop losing sleep and just accept things the way they are. Or be militant about poking at entrenched views, and maybe grow a beard and tell them to stick it. The latter option, favoured by the admirable Wendy Chapkis, is not an easy one. Unlike fat people, bearded ladies are rare, because it's fairly easy to do something about it (even though this can mean bleaching, tweezing, lazering and electrocuting your face to the point of scarring, as well as being time and money-costly). It's not damaging to ones' physical health, unlike being too overweight. I am not going to include evolutionary perspectives here, or go too far into cultural diversity in views of hirsuitism, although that would be interesting. Neither do I wish to rehash oft-repeated arguments about societal elaborations of mascu/femininity. I'd love to hear what transgender folk think of facial hair- one notices few 'bois' sporting moustaches, despite the artifice and play involved in gender-bending. Things become of greater concern for those who wish to undergo surgery, for a hairy face becomes, along with the genitals, bone structures and voice, something seen as 'naturally' male. Of course, many men choose to remove their facial hair and, even if on men stubble is seen to be an essential component of the rough n ready look dat make you a MAAAN, facial hair is something of a nuisance to many people which would justify demands for its removal- stubble can be uncomfy. But the degree to which it is denigrated in women almost by definition as unwanted- why does this remain so unchallenged???
We were squished, 4 in the back seat of Emma's volvo, being driven by her mum back from our tennis lesson at Lakenham in Norwich. Hannah, Fiona, Emma and I played once a week and I loved it. We rotated houses to go to for dinner and play before the lesson, and became pretty close. Joking and trickstering was a common thread of the age (I must have been about 11)- we'd snigger at Miss Bidwell's lisp and odd lump between her belt and mid-thighs. We'd spy on adults and giggle at books on puberty- what a horrid age. Anyway, back to the car. In the half-light, Hannah suddenly chimed 'Charlotte's got a mole with a big black hair growing out of it'. It was like the time I farted and it echoed round the gym as we sat huddled in the corner, or Joel at Wigmore shouted 'you've got a big arse' out of the year 9 mobile classroom window as I was walking to the bus. Pure burning cheeks and the sudden realisation that I was not in full control of what people thought of me, that somehow their views defined me more than my own self-appraisment. Awful moments of making the Self of the western beauty cult- full consciousness of your physical features as (not) ordinary. I told my mum what Hannah had said and she cheerfully told me I could have electrolysis. At the age of 10! Jeez. She must have been waiting for me to seek her help for the 'problem' I'd never even noticed. Offers of electrolysis and gifts of bleach continued. For years I diligently hid my facial hair and it didn't bother me that much. I can't blame my mum or Hannah in any way- they are merely 2 of the billions of people, including myself, who see black hairs on a girl's face and think it's weird. But I've recently started to think 'I'm a feminist! Why the hell am I bothering with all this shame and masking?? I refute the dualistic assumption of male/female 'nature'- why am I working so hard to place myself one side through something so...stupid??'
The medicalisation of excessive or 'misplaced' hair reinforces the sense of abnormality and 'fix-ability' of female facial hair. It can be evidential of a serious endocrine abnormality such as polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) which can lead to infertility, and is nature's way of keeping the anorexic warm. But most hormone imbalances lie along a spectrum, and affect millions of people in ways that does not harm their health but is still a huge source of shame and strain. Andronic terminal hair (such as facial hair) is caused by testosterone acting on the hair follicles. But high levels of testosterone in a woman does not make her somehow 'more of a man' or vv- such a perspective is only a result of our narrow perspectives on gender. Although comments can be hurtful, I'm not overly bothered by other peoples secret thoughts that I don't match up to the ideal vision of female beauty (who does? The whole discussion could be extended to the much wider issue of the media and fashion industry's role in making people empty their purses in the futile pursuit of narrow definitions and superlative endorsements of what IS/ISN'T). I am maybe framing things in overly oppositional terms- this isn't about the war of the sexes, and nobody stakes their entire self worth upon how FEM/MASC they are, being mostly acceptant that we are all in some way part of the other. But I do get frustrated by the assumption that hair on womens faces is unwanted and should be got rid of. I don't refute anyone's right to change something that bothers them to the point of wanting to hide in shame- our faces are so exposed and, in that way wonderful- a vista of natural expression that shouldn't be marred by something we hate. But, as with a big nose or birthmark or wonky chin, I wonder if there shouldn't be more of a 'Love Yourself As You Are' discourse in medical as well as social circles. Rather than going for expensive and invasive correctives, why not expand the spectrum of what's seen as beautiful to ladies with furry chins? We could have purple goatees too.
As for me, I'm not sure what I'll do. It's overwhelming how tempting it is to just have laser treatment and stop fighting such overwhelming consensus over the inappropriateness of beardy babes. I don't love my chin hair. I just wish I did.
To be continued over pints- Brazilian waxing, Barbie's smooth bits, Japan's love of the Childlike, fucking Gillette and the other hair-removing money-spinners.
I was teaching the new yochien-sei for the first time. I rarely teach kindergarten and it's actually quite a harrowing experience at first- some of the kids are terrified of you and cry, or stare you down, or pull your skirt up or stick a green pea up their nose and blow it at you. Or wet themselves. Or worse. God, children. But this week one little boy asked 'are you a man or a woman?'. This is where learning Japanese starts to become tiresome- you are torn from your veil of protective misunderstanding and exposed to the harsh innocence of childrens' opinions. That, as they flick my bingo wings, my arms are so 'meaty' they swing even when I'm holding them still. That I must have a baby in there. That I have a beard. The latter is an example of the last taboos and myths that pervade our society and its gendered standards of beauty. Fat people parade, proud to be fat and demanding the right to be recognised as beautiful and seen, rather than greedy and lazy. That's another issue that's been discussed to the hilt, but facial hair gets less of a spotlight, I think. In Japan, it's probably expected for a little boy to point at my hairy chin and think it's wierd, cos women just don't have hairy faces, except for a few unfortunate exceptions, but it's interesting that they immediately link that to a question of my gender, seeing as bearded men are also something of a rarity.
So, as something rather petty and meaningless (which is why it shouldn't be a big deal) yet whose dull acceptance as something significant of the rigidity of gender, I find myself wondering whether I should stop losing sleep and just accept things the way they are. Or be militant about poking at entrenched views, and maybe grow a beard and tell them to stick it. The latter option, favoured by the admirable Wendy Chapkis, is not an easy one. Unlike fat people, bearded ladies are rare, because it's fairly easy to do something about it (even though this can mean bleaching, tweezing, lazering and electrocuting your face to the point of scarring, as well as being time and money-costly). It's not damaging to ones' physical health, unlike being too overweight. I am not going to include evolutionary perspectives here, or go too far into cultural diversity in views of hirsuitism, although that would be interesting. Neither do I wish to rehash oft-repeated arguments about societal elaborations of mascu/femininity. I'd love to hear what transgender folk think of facial hair- one notices few 'bois' sporting moustaches, despite the artifice and play involved in gender-bending. Things become of greater concern for those who wish to undergo surgery, for a hairy face becomes, along with the genitals, bone structures and voice, something seen as 'naturally' male. Of course, many men choose to remove their facial hair and, even if on men stubble is seen to be an essential component of the rough n ready look dat make you a MAAAN, facial hair is something of a nuisance to many people which would justify demands for its removal- stubble can be uncomfy. But the degree to which it is denigrated in women almost by definition as unwanted- why does this remain so unchallenged???
We were squished, 4 in the back seat of Emma's volvo, being driven by her mum back from our tennis lesson at Lakenham in Norwich. Hannah, Fiona, Emma and I played once a week and I loved it. We rotated houses to go to for dinner and play before the lesson, and became pretty close. Joking and trickstering was a common thread of the age (I must have been about 11)- we'd snigger at Miss Bidwell's lisp and odd lump between her belt and mid-thighs. We'd spy on adults and giggle at books on puberty- what a horrid age. Anyway, back to the car. In the half-light, Hannah suddenly chimed 'Charlotte's got a mole with a big black hair growing out of it'. It was like the time I farted and it echoed round the gym as we sat huddled in the corner, or Joel at Wigmore shouted 'you've got a big arse' out of the year 9 mobile classroom window as I was walking to the bus. Pure burning cheeks and the sudden realisation that I was not in full control of what people thought of me, that somehow their views defined me more than my own self-appraisment. Awful moments of making the Self of the western beauty cult- full consciousness of your physical features as (not) ordinary. I told my mum what Hannah had said and she cheerfully told me I could have electrolysis. At the age of 10! Jeez. She must have been waiting for me to seek her help for the 'problem' I'd never even noticed. Offers of electrolysis and gifts of bleach continued. For years I diligently hid my facial hair and it didn't bother me that much. I can't blame my mum or Hannah in any way- they are merely 2 of the billions of people, including myself, who see black hairs on a girl's face and think it's weird. But I've recently started to think 'I'm a feminist! Why the hell am I bothering with all this shame and masking?? I refute the dualistic assumption of male/female 'nature'- why am I working so hard to place myself one side through something so...stupid??'
The medicalisation of excessive or 'misplaced' hair reinforces the sense of abnormality and 'fix-ability' of female facial hair. It can be evidential of a serious endocrine abnormality such as polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) which can lead to infertility, and is nature's way of keeping the anorexic warm. But most hormone imbalances lie along a spectrum, and affect millions of people in ways that does not harm their health but is still a huge source of shame and strain. Andronic terminal hair (such as facial hair) is caused by testosterone acting on the hair follicles. But high levels of testosterone in a woman does not make her somehow 'more of a man' or vv- such a perspective is only a result of our narrow perspectives on gender. Although comments can be hurtful, I'm not overly bothered by other peoples secret thoughts that I don't match up to the ideal vision of female beauty (who does? The whole discussion could be extended to the much wider issue of the media and fashion industry's role in making people empty their purses in the futile pursuit of narrow definitions and superlative endorsements of what IS/ISN'T). I am maybe framing things in overly oppositional terms- this isn't about the war of the sexes, and nobody stakes their entire self worth upon how FEM/MASC they are, being mostly acceptant that we are all in some way part of the other. But I do get frustrated by the assumption that hair on womens faces is unwanted and should be got rid of. I don't refute anyone's right to change something that bothers them to the point of wanting to hide in shame- our faces are so exposed and, in that way wonderful- a vista of natural expression that shouldn't be marred by something we hate. But, as with a big nose or birthmark or wonky chin, I wonder if there shouldn't be more of a 'Love Yourself As You Are' discourse in medical as well as social circles. Rather than going for expensive and invasive correctives, why not expand the spectrum of what's seen as beautiful to ladies with furry chins? We could have purple goatees too.
As for me, I'm not sure what I'll do. It's overwhelming how tempting it is to just have laser treatment and stop fighting such overwhelming consensus over the inappropriateness of beardy babes. I don't love my chin hair. I just wish I did.
To be continued over pints- Brazilian waxing, Barbie's smooth bits, Japan's love of the Childlike, fucking Gillette and the other hair-removing money-spinners.