The Januhairy diaries
By Jade Sterling
January 2019 saw the inaugural month-long campaign encouraging women to grow out their body hair and ‘love and accept’ their natural hair while raising money for charity. After all, female body hair is hardly unnatural and it’s time we accept it’s nothing to be ashamed about. A hairless body is a patriarchal ideal of what a woman should look like though we have to question what made female body hair repellent in the first place. Forgetting the male preference for a moment (if you can.), women tend to feel ‘gross,’ ‘unclean,’ and ‘unkempt’ should they dare skip a shave.
I am no exception. While I’ve never been the most fastidious in removing my leg hair (hello winter fur coat), I’ve still felt the need to get my pins as smooth and shiny as possible should there even be a whiff of a chance they’d be exposed. I live in Abu Dhabi: with the heat and the sunbathing opportunities, they’re often on show! I don’t feel sexy unless I have smooth arms, underarms, legs and face and though a little stubble here or there has never bothered any partner, I can’t stop thinking about it or worrying they’ll notice. Even married, I’m concerned. And that’s just stupid.
Removing body hair is caving to misogyny and that’s really stupid. So I signed myself up for the Januhairy challenge gleefully—no shaving for a month, thank you!
Except, I have a couple of caveats.
First, I didn’t donate a single penny to charity. Certainly, no one was going to sponsor me to skip shaving and then be proud enough of me when the hair grew in to donate in my name, and while I could have donated the money I saved on razor blades, I didn’t.
Second, I cheated. I didn’t shave my legs for a whole month—true—but my legs aren’t the only place I resemble an orangutan. I have PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome) and pretty severe hirsutism, which is where ‘excessive hair appears in a male pattern on women’s bodies’. For me, that’s my chin. My beard rivals my husband’s should I ever let it grow even the slightest amount—and I attack that devil daily with my epilator and keep a pair of tweezers in every room and handbag. And that’s just the most noticeable place: I also have gorilla arms, a chest a yak would be proud of, and underarm hair you could plait.
I’m very aware that hairy or not, I’m still a woman, but it’s hard to feel womanly when you could brush me like a cat.
So although I stood in the shower on the first day of January and considered putting my razor down, I caved, and removed the hair from my underarms, arms, chest and face as usual. But I left my legs alone so here we go:
1 January 2019
Wow, I took a shower. I usually have to shave my legs perched on the edge of the bath because my shower was designed by men who don’t need a ledge to prop their foot on for leg-shaving ease. I was done with my ablutions faster today than in a long while—there was even hot water left! This is great!
5 January 2019
It’s barely even grown in—I feel almost like a fraud. I was expecting my winter coat to appear overnight, but nope, just the usual little spikes. I wore shorts to the gym and didn’t even think about it.
11 January 2019
A weekend in the desert! Bring on the tan! Oh wait, the hair’s a little longer now and it’s kinda noticeable. Better wear gym leggings.
12 January 2019
Ugh, ankle tan.
15 January 2019
Okay, starting to feel a bit gross now. I’ve switched to wearing joggers to bed because I can’t stand having prickly legs—God knows how my husband must feel. Still, showers are so quick and easy! I’m half-way through, I can do this.
18 January 2019
First weekend of the new year at Yas Marina Circuit! I love volunteering here—and it’s absolutely because I like speedy race cars not because my co-volunteer is a drop-dead gorgeous personal trainer. Dammit—hairy legs need covering. Why do I care? I’m married! Nope—on go the longest leggings I can find.
Oh no. Now I remember why I started shaving my thighs in the first place—the hairs are poking through my leggings. Argh!
22 January 2019
My in-laws are here to stay for a week and that’s great! What’s not great? My leg hair is long enough to poke through jeans now. But even though it’s 30 degrees out, that’s what I’m wearing. I don’t feel proud or carefree with hairy legs and being confronted by them every day is not making me any more comfortable with them. I feel gross.
30 January 2019
Our guests have left and so have all my feelings of femininity. I hate this. Why do I hate this? Why do I feel like this? Where did I learn this? Oh yeah: patriarchy. I feel like a failed feminist.
31 January 2019
Thank God. It’s over. I took two photos of the end result and sent them to my mum and sister—both were pretty horrified. I felt sad but also relieved it wasn’t just me. How weird.
It took an hour to get my legs smooth again. I exfoliated, shaved, exfoliated again, and shaved again to reveal the palest pins in Abu Dhabi. The bath looked like a horror scene—I’d nicked my knees in the process and the water swirled with blood and hair.
I proudly presented my legs to my husband and he was pretty nonchalant about the whole thing, saying he preferred smooth legs but even hairy they were still mine. Nice to hear but I’m not turning my back on shaving ever again.
Two weeks later and I find myself more chill about going a few days without shaving my legs—I even went out with stubbly legs on show (but only for five minutes and only to get a coffee!)
Januhairy wasn’t empowering for me—and I’m embarrassed to admit that. I didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin but I don’t know how much of that is down to the fact I have such hang-ups about the hair elsewhere on my body.
Maybe I’ll try again next year. ■
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