Scandalous!

There was a recent Pearls Before Swine comic strip that really struck a chord with me. The dialogue went something like this:

Goat: What are you doing?

Rat: I’m writing a letter to France.

Goat: About what?

Rat: I’m telling them that they should make French women shave their armpits. If God had meant for women to have hairy armpits then he would have made them that way.

Goat: Dude, God did make women that way.

Which brings me to the point of this post. As a young girl I remember wondering about what would happen in the resurrection. Would people still have scars? Christ kept his scars, what about people whose faces are severely burnt? Do they have to keep their scars? Will they get to pick? What about weight? Eyesight? Age? Downs syndrome? etc. I thought of tatoos and cosmetic surgery, and even permanent makeup. Would all of that stay? Finally I wondered, “Will women have to shave after the resurrection?” I thought that maybe the hair follicles would disappear, rendering shaving unnecessary. Then I thought, if God had meant us to hairless, He would have made us that way. This was the first time my little brain realized that something I had taken completely for granted, something that is just how society works, wasn’t how God intented it to be.

Another memory I have was when I was in 5th grade, recess had just ended and I had lined up with my class and was waiting for our teacher to bring us inside. A girl standing next to me looked at my legs and said “Gross, your legs are covered with hair! That’s disgusting.” I looked at my legs, and sure enough they were covered with hair. Fine blonde hairs that were only visible because of how the sunlight was shining. I secretly started using my older sister’s razor to shave until I could ask my mom to get me one of my own.

When I was 16 I had gone to the grocery store and saw a group of college kids. They were unwashed (literally, it was raining and their arms, legs and faces were spotted like dusty cars) hippies, and were quite obviously drunk. The thing that gets me, though, is that I was more repulsed by one of the woman’s unshaven legs than I was by her very dirty skin, greasy hair, and horrible body odor.

In the interests of full disclosure, I do shave my legs and underarms regularly. However, I find it horribly unfortunate that in America a woman’s shaving habits are often a political statement. Women who do not shave are quickly placed in a political category. Because I do not wish to make the political statement that unshaven legs and underarms make, I feel as though I must shave. If it were merely a matter of aesthetics I wouldn’t shave at all.

I’ve toyed with the idea of not shaving anymore. I asked my husband, and he said he doesn’t really care one way or the other. I often feel the need to keep some of my opinions on the down low around my parents and family. Unshaven legs and armpits, once seen, say more than I want to say (where I live is really hot, so long pants are really uncomfortable most of the year). I think that someday I’ll get some guts and just not worry about it so much. Or someday I’ll get so fed up with the media telling me that how I (and all women) look is all wrong and needs to be plucked waxed and shaved just to be “normal.”

I don’t like shaving. It’s not because it’s hard (because it isn’t really). I don’t like it because it makes my personal grooming habits into a public statement. It invades my privacy. I don’t like it because every time I do it I feel like I’m contributing to a social mindset that views a woman’s natural body and bodily functions as inherently unclean. I don’t like it because I know that it doesn’t really make me more attractive (because foreign women are plenty attractive when they don’t shave). I don’t like it because God didn’t make me hairless, and there’s no good reason that I should feel that I need to be. I am certain that after the resurrection there will be no razors for anyone, and no one will care.

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