Summary

A woman grapples with the decision to get a pixie cut, reflecting on societal expectations, femininity, and aging.

Abstract

The author, a feminist who embraces age-positivity, contemplates getting a pixie cut, a hairstyle often associated with older women. Despite her fear of looking like a "suburban mom," she is drawn to the practicality and boldness of short hair. She questions whether her concerns are influenced by societal norms or personal preference, particularly as she navigates reclaiming her femininity and accepting the natural signs of aging. Ultimately, she decides to embrace the cut as an expression of authenticity and convenience, challenging the notion that a haircut should define one's age or desirability.

Opinions

The author has reservations about the pixie cut, fearing it might make her look older or less desirable, reflecting societal beauty standards.
She associates long hair with femininity but is also experimenting with eye makeup to enhance her appearance with short hair.
The author's previous experience with short hair was positive, but the process of growing it out was not stylishly managed.
She acknowledges the influence of the patriarchy on her hair-related decisions, recognizing the subtle impact of societal conditioning.
The author's husband prefers long hair, but she values self-expression and authenticity over his preference.
She is excited about the convenience of short hair, especially during physical activities like sex.
The author's daughter is inspired by her decision to cut her hair short, while her son expresses a preference for her long hair.
Despite her fears, she is committed to the haircut as a statement of her identity and is eager to represent herself authentically in her professional and personal life.

I Want A Pixie Cut

But I worry might end up looking like a suburban mom.

As a feminist and someone who strives to be age-positive, I’m baffled at my fear of this transformation.

“I want punk short. Not old lady short.”

I was texting with the local stylist that all my friends have been raving about.

“I’m working on learning how to wear eye makeup, so I don’t accidentally turn myself into one of my husband’s friend’s Mom’s,” was the follow-up text.

“Awww you’ll be great with short hair!!” came the quick response.

I’m not sure if she’s telling me the truth. But I want to believe that I can get a hip, short haircut without turning myself into a premature 60-year-old.

I booked the appointment anyway. November 26th, here I come!

What does hair have to do with it?

You know the cut I’m talking about. That short, maybe a little bit spiky cut that older women in a certain demographic veer towards.

The utilitarian, short on the sides, slightly longer on top, maybe frosted, haircut they call the pixie cut. Some women wear it well. Some women only wear them. Some women look older with it, and some look stunningly hot.

I’m angling for the latter. After all, if I’m trying my best to reclaim my femininity, why would I cut off my long hair?

Choosing to behave consciously as if the sexual attention of men is not my top priority has made more of a difference to how my life has turned out than I ever imagined. — Laurie Penny

Am I trying to make a political statement? I don’t think so, but maybe. Am I trying to get a hairstyle that doesn’t get in the way when I’m having sex? For sure.

Is my hair getting thinner as I age? Yep. Am I welcoming the silver hairs that I’ve been waiting for since I was like 6? Yes to that too.

Am I afraid of aging? I don’t think so. But I’m not sure on that one.

Have you ever gotten a big chop, then regretted it?

The year after I graduated college, I decided one day on a whim to go out and get a razor and shave my hair. I did it all G.I. Jane style with the mirror and the crazy-eyes and everything.

I loved it.

It suited me, and I wore it short for about a year. I cut it myself. Sometimes I’d ask a guy friend to help me get all the little pieces in the back even so I didn’t look like the ratty version of an orphan.

Then I grew it out. Unbeknownst to me, you CAN get your hair styled during this process. I didn’t do this. Mine just stuck out of my head like a dandelion from Scandinavia. I have some epic pictures from this era, though they’re so old I think they’re printed on paper in actual photo albums that live up in my attic at this point.

Since then, I’ve had hair to my waist, and the bob that is shorter in the back and longer in the front. I’ve never gone back to the triangular wedge and shrub-style bangs of the late 80’s, thank the goddess!

But hair is an intimate part of how we see ourselves in the world. It also shapes what people think of us.

And what’s wrong with suburban moms anyway. After all, if I’m being honest with myself, that’s me.

Does a haircut have to define your age or desirability?

I have this fear that if I get the pixie cut I’m dreaming of, I’m not going to look like the lush, sexy women in the pictures I’ve been collecting off the internet. I am afraid I’m going to look like a PTA mom instead.

Is it their flawless smoky, daytime-appropriate eyes? Their full sleeve tattoos on lean, muscled arms? The full lips and hip sunglasses pictured above?

I’m sneaking time to watch youtube videos on how to apply eye makeup so that I can go more sultry with this choice, and less stodgy. More M.I.L.F. and less Mrs. Robinson.

As a feminist and someone who strives to be age-positive, I’m baffled at my fear of this transformation.

I don’t really understand it. My fear, or why I’m moving inexorably towards the big cut anyway.

I know the science points to the facets of desirability and their relationship to our capacity for bearing healthy children. But I’m 43, married to a man 11 years my junior. We have 2 kids, and I definitely don’t want more.

So what am I worried about?

Imagine a world where short, light, cool, and easy to care for hair didn’t carry the weight of social expectations.

I’m getting it cut. I’m going to go through with it, despite my fears. I’m stepping out more and more into the world these days. My children are getting more independent. I’m working on my professional freelance website and my personal brand. And I want to represent myself in a way that feels authentic to me.

I haven’t mentioned it to my husband. I think I’m going to surprise him. That’ll be fun. I know he’ll be ok with it, even though he’s told me in the past that he likes long hair better. He’ll just have to deal. We’re solid enough in our relationship that it will be a shock for a day or two, then he’ll move on.

It’ll help that I won’t have to keep stopping during sex to pull the damn stuff out of my mouth. But that’s for me more than it is for him.

I told my daughter. She wants to get her hair cut short too now. Ah, to be 3. I think I might just let her.

I told my son. He protested. He told me he loves my long hair.

Ah, the irony.

The weight of the patriarchy is subtle and deep. I think most of us think it’s not even social conditioning, but rather just our own personal preferences at this point. It’s hard to tell.

Wish me luck! I’m going for it!

I Want A Pixie Cut

But I worry might end up looking like a suburban mom.

What does hair have to do with it?

Have you ever gotten a big chop, then regretted it?

Does a haircut have to define your age or desirability?

Imagine a world where short, light, cool, and easy to care for hair didn’t carry the weight of social expectations.

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