Femininity is subjective.
I don’t know why having short hair challenges it so much. I think part of it not having hair to flick around, to hide behind, to use as a fan in front of flirting eyes.
I’ve taken to wear bigger earring, chunkier necklaces, more makeup. I pay more attention to what I’m wearing now, it’s not as acceptable to just run to the shops in my track suit pants and slippers. It’s not anyone elses reactions to me– it’s the way I feel about it, the way I see myself in my mind.
Everyone has a mental image of themselves, the way they see themselves. Their self image. I’m still adjusting to seeing myself with short hair. When I’m not a bit dressed up I feel… well… a bit masculine. I don’t even like admitting that, it feels like another one of those anti–feminisms. But it’s truth.
|Faux glasses and red lippie makes me feel… a bit arty.|
It certainly has its benefits. It makes me pay more attention to my general appearance, even the bits and pieces that no one else pays any attention but me. I shave my legs, do my bikini line, pluck stray hairs from my brows on a much more regular basis than I used to. With the increased focus on dressing in way that’s flattering and feminine, and choosing different jewelry to wear each day; it’s works subtlety on my self esteem. I find myself more confident, without hair to hide behind. I’m more certain of what I’m wearing, that it looks good, because i took a few extra minutes to choose it. I even pay more attention to my hair than I usually did when it was long– as matter of course I would throw it back in a messy ponytail, add some bobby pins to keep it out of my eyes. Now I wax it with care and am the Imelda of hats, scarves and hair bands. Ironically, it now takes me ten minutes to do my hair instead of two, because I wax it and press it down, focus on strands of it and exactly where they sit.
The image of me that rests in my head varies wildly between pretty and sparkly and spunky, to dull and chunky and masculine. Some days I feel bigger than I am, my cheeks feel over blown and chipmunk–full. But the sparkly me becomes more and more frequent as that confidence grows, flamed by the increased focus on how I look and what I’m wearing, of how much body maintenance I’ve done, and how that all adds up to effect how I feel.
It’s so easy to be inherently feminine when my hair is long and flowing. This, struggling with it, simply makes me more aware of it. It’s another bonus of that skin shedding that came with the pixie cut… the emancipation of Lori.