What I Learned When I Stopped Shaving
Mostly, that I have very hairy legs.
It’s about more than just the hair.
I stopped shaving during the pandemic. I was single, tired, and not seeing anyone outside of my roommates. It didn’t seem necessary. I kept shaving my armpits for a while, but gave up on that as well.
I started dating, but it was long distance and my boyfriend didn’t care, so I wasn’t worried. When we finally started going out again, it was November and I realized I could get away with it for a few more months (I lived in Minnesota at the time).
By the time spring of 2021 came around, I didn’t even have a razor any more. That’s when I decided to stop shaving forever — out of sheer laziness and not wanting to buy a new razor (or shave my very hairy legs).
What started as laziness turned into a lifestyle choice, but I didn’t want to be seen as too radical or not girly enough. Then I realized something: why am I worrying so much about it?
As a white, pretty, curvy girl, I understand that I have a remarkable amount of privilege. People are a lot more forgiving when you’re blonde and therefore any rebellion can be interpreted as whimsy. There is the downside of being written off as a man-hating feminist, but frankly, that’s a risk I was (and am) willing to take.
Anyway, here are a few of things I’ve learned since I stopped shaving *any* hair on my body. Some of these are research based, and some are experienced based. Whether or not you’re deciding what to do with your body hair, these might interest you.
It’s Political…
While there might not be actual legislation written about the unshaven hairs on a woman’s body, the choice to shave does put you on a certain side of the spectrum. After all, there is a certain wing that leans more towards choosing.
You may feel pressure for it to be a political statement. If I don’t shave, should I never shave? Once you start to let your hair grow, it may feel like a betrayal to pull out that razor again.
There is a bit of feminist snobbery, people who look down on women who shave as stuck in internalized mysogyny. There’s pressure for the people who don’t shave to NEVER shave. There’s disappointment when someone say, shaves for a friend’s wedding with a formal dress code. A feeling like they’ve forgotten something or betrayed “the cause.”
Whether we want it to be or not, what we do with our bodies is a political statement, especially for those who identify as women. But I’m not sure that I stopped shaving to make a political point.
For the most part, you’ll make a daily choice, just like you always have. Am I going to shave my body hair today? For the last three years, the answer to that question has been no. It might change, or it might not. For me, it’s not about my political leaning.
…And It’s Not Political
My cause is my body, first and foremost. I will not betray myself, whether I shave or not, because I will be taking care of myself how my body or my mind needs it in the moment. I have chronic illness, and showering is hard enough without the extra ten minutes it takes to shave.
If you were to ask me today why I don’t shave, my first answer would probably be that I’m tired, lazy, and I don’t have a razor.
But part of the reason I don’t shave is that it shouldn’t matter. No one has ever asked a man about his leg hair, to my knowledge. I get stares and a few comments a month about it.
I guess the political statement is that women have body hair and that should be normalized. But if you want to shave, good. Do. And if you don’t, good. Don’t. It’s about you — a person, not the state of the union.
It’s Based in Misogyny and Capitalism
There’s a long history behind the removal of body hair, especially for women. The short story is that women have always been encouraged to shave off “unwanted” body hair. However, legs and armpits were targeted in the early 20th century, as skirts became shorter and razor companies started selling to women.
Razor companies began running targeted ads to women, using fashion and the shortages of World War II to paint bare legs and armpits as a social necessity. While men could have hair wherever, these ad campaigns effectively regulated women’s body hair to “natural” and “unnatural” zones.
In the end, it’s always capitalism or misogyny — why not a bit of both?
Shaving Is Not Actually “Healthier”
If most of the stigma came from society, the patriarchy, and big companies, some of it appeared as psuedo-science. Although no one said a word about men’s hairy legs, armpits, backs, or chests, a myth arose around women’s body hair. Spoiler alert: it’s misogyny…again.
Women’s body hair has not only been deemed unsightly and unfeminine (whatever that means) — it’s sometimes called unhygeinic. Of course, most of the people who call a woman’s unshaved legs unhealthy are men with unshaved legs themselves, but this point is largely overlooked. Women’s body hair is no dirtier than men’s — it grows to serve the same function.
Essentially, there’s no huge health difference betweeen shaving and not shaving — it come down to a personal or aesthetic choice. Although some argue that *not* shaving is healthier: we evolved to grow protective hair in multiple areas on our body. Some doctors say that shaving pubic areas can cause skin issues and infections.
People Do Say Things…
When I first stopped shaving, it was a joke between my roommate and myself. Then, she shaved again and I didn’t. The jokes dwindled, and as summer neared, she asked why I wasn’t shaving. At that point, I didn’t really have an answer, and she shrugged her shoulders and moved on.
Other people, however, were not so quiet and accepting about it. I have had women of my mother’s generation say, “I don’t find it attractive when women don’t shave” and “Wow! What does your boyfriend think?”
My answers to these comments were generally as follows: “I’m not doing it so you’ll find me attractive, Brenda” (or, alternatively, “then don’t date unshaven women, Brenda”) and “He loves me for who I am, and also it’s not his body or his choice, BRENDA.” (Brenda’s name has been changed from several different women’s names for anonymity.)
These responses seem harsh, but I have learned pretty quickly that people who comment on others’ bodies in *any* way should probably be hushed as quickly and kindly as possible.
I didn’t have anyone (over the age of 10 — kids will say anything) tell me I was gross, but I did sit through a few conversations that involved other people mentioning unshaven women, “hairy feminists,” and how weird and offensive body hair on women is.
There’s an odd delight when someone talks about how disgusting it is, only to have you take off your jacket later and reveal hairy armpits. Or maybe it’s only me who revels in others’ discomfort around the tiniest bit of diversity.
…But Most People Say Nothing
These comments are the worst of it, but they are few and far between. Again, my inherent white cisgender pretty privilege likely came into play here, making it easier for me than it is for non-gender conforming people, trans women, or people of color.
There is something to say for the inherent lack of conflict in the majority of people. Even if they’re uncomfortable, they’ll pretty much leave you alone. You might get weird looks (especially when you’re in a bathing suit with unshaved hair), but generally, most people won’t explicitly say anything.
Of course, I’m not minimizing the withering glances, barely concealed whispers, and outright stares. It’s not pleasant and it can be exhausting. When a little kid says, “your armpits are gross!” it’s tiring, even if it’s a seven-year old with no filter.
Emotions Might Get Involved
When I stopped shaving, it was largely because no one saw my legs. When others started seeing and saying (or not saying) things, it did get harder. I can be tough and feminist and still get hurt feelings or be self-conscious. I still do care what other people think.
I internalized all of it at first: the comments, the non-comments, the stares. I had to stop and think, why am I doing this? Why didn’t I do this before? Am I really ready for this? Am I making too big of a deal out of this? Why is it so weird to think about?
If you decide to stop shaving, you might be surprised at the emotional toll it takes on you at first. This is okay. If you have to unlearn some internalized misogyny and body shaming, please do. It is worth it.
It’s also okay if you stop shaving because you don’t want to give men the satisfaction, and then start again because you hate having hairy legs. It’s not just a random body choice. As we’ve established, it’s political, personal, feminist, and difficult all at once.
Emotions can show up when you least expect them, even with body hair. Give yourself some grace. It’s hard being a person with a body. It’s harder being a woman with a body.
Use Gel Based Deodorant!
Now for some practical tips and notes— these are the things no one tells you, even as they applaud you for being brave or ask you why you hate men. Not all of these will apply to everyone, but I hope they are helpful to someone.
Seriously, why do people even use chalk deodorant at all? I kept using the same Dove deodorant on my hairy armpits, and it would get stuck in the hair, melt on my shirt, and definitely not deodorize. My husband (then boyfriend) let me borrow his gel-based deoderant, and my whole life changed.
So here’s a practical tip for anyone not used to hairy armpits: switch to gel-based deodorant, and put a shirt on right after you use it. It won’t stick in your armpit hairs. Thank me later.
You Can Feel the Hairs on Your Legs
Another unexpected sensation is hair on your legs. It may seem like common sense, but if you’ve never experienced it, it’s wild. Once you get past the prickly stage, it’s soft and long, and doesn’t feel bad at all. However, if you’re easily overwhelmed by sensory stuff, you might hate the feeling (an extremely valid reason to shave).
The wind in leg hairs, leg hairs in jeans (leg hairs in tights!), and leg hair swishing in water is all something to get used to. Now, I love it, and it’s one of my favorite parts about getting in the pool. However, it took a while. I still find it weird when the wind blows through my leg hair (like a tiny Maybelline commercial).
Life Without Razor Burn is Glorious
That’s it. I have nothing else to say about that.
In The End, It’s Your Body. It’s Your Body Hair.
The most important thing to remember is that it’s just hair. You can shave it, change your mind, grow it out, change your mind again, and shave it. No matter what you do with your body (as long as it doesn’t hurt you), it’s the right choice.
My peers had interesting comments — they called me brave, inspiring, and had all sorts of reasons why they shaved. It was funny to me how defensive people got when talking about shaving — I never said they shouldn’t shave or that shaving was bad. I want everyone to make the decision that’s best for their body, and for a lot of women, that’s shaving!
In the end, shaving or not shaving shouldn’t be a political statement. As women, as people, we should be able to exist without having to explain our looks, our choices, and our body hair. Other people shouldn’t make the decision for you, whether through peer pressure or force.
Whether you’re lazy, angry, or ready for a change, your legs, armpits, and “bikini region” (in commercial speak) are yours. Do with them what you will, and enjoy your time in the sun.
Thanks for reading. I think and write about religion, words, and chronic illness, as well as whatever happens to pop into my head. Come along if you like, and we’ll explore together!