You might have missed it, but the UK recently celebrated National Hair Day. Congratulations hair! And thank you for your service.
It can’t be easy being hair.
There is always the looming danger of scissors, razors, the dreaded wax or – on the heads of every single black person – the uninvited and inappropriate touch of a white stranger’s hand (please stop doing this fellow white folk, it is not ok).
When I looked into whatever National Hair Day entailed, its focus seemed to pivot around one single premise.
“Since ancient times women have been obsessed with their hair,” the website proclaimed.
The rest of it seemed solely focused on getting people to buy stuff to rub on their bonces.
It seems a bit strange that hair is being sold so short by an occasion that is intended to celebrate its importance.
Hair is personal, it’s political, and symbolic in so many ways.
So I got talking to my barber – yes I am a woman who goes to a barber – about this.
And here’s what I’ve learned.
My Fife barber is my happy place
Keiran runs Next Gen Barbers in Lochgelly, Fife.
I started going there because it’s just up the road, and I am lazy.
I’ve continued to go because Keiran understands that hair is important.
(And because Neil gives a lovely head massage and makes a delightful cup of tea.)
Some people like shoes. Others like cars. Many find a sense of their identity of whatever colour of football top they wear when they go to see their team
For me it’s my hair, and my glasses.
For Keiran, understandably, it’s also his hair.
He describes it as being like armour, “It’s my makeup, it’s my defence system,” he said.
He recently dyed my hair a colour called “hot purple” and told me about the time he was suspended from school for dyeing his own hair bright red.
That policing of people’s hair still goes on.
Not least in relation to the hair of people of colour, where the resistance of some white people to black identity as expressed through hairstyles is well documented.
Our hair, our bodies, our choice surely?
I haven’t even mentioned yet the policing of hair on other parts of the body.
I’ve been told underarm or leg hair on women is disgusting.
That shaving my legs is “lame” and not feminist enough of me.
I once got bored halfway through shaving my legs in the shower and couldn’t be bothered doing the other one.
I spent the following days walking about with one leg that wouldn’t make sexist men sick, and one that feminists would find acceptable.
The judgement that people face around hair is quite baffling.
And I wonder how much of a role it plays in the distress people experience in relation to hair loss.
Gail Porter has spoken about coming to terms with hair loss as a result of alopecia, and comedian Janey Godley, about losing her hair while undergoing treatment for ovarian cancer.
Getting ahead of the curve, Godley asked her husband to shave her hair shortly after it started falling out.
It’s now growing back and looks great. But it was striking just how many internet trolls accused her of playing her baldness to get sympathy.
Apparently, they were upset that Godley chose not to wear a wig to cover up her head.
But why should she?
It’s her head and it’s her choice.
I love my natural bald head – thanks ❤️ #MentalHealthMatters https://t.co/uSVQfu4eAw
— Janey Godley (@JaneyGodley) March 31, 2022
It was also my choice in my teens to have hair that could have given Rapunzel a run for her money cut short, to the (frankly odd) horror of people whose hair it wasn’t.
My Fife barber isn’t the only one doing great work
Keiran told me about the feelings of vulnerability he felt when he started losing his hair in his teens.
That’s one of the factors that led to him not only training as a barber, but also working with people who have experienced hair loss.
He works to design wigs that look and feel right for them.
He’s listed on a transgender website as a trans friendly business, and he rightly says: “I’m bl**dy proud of that.”
So he should be.
Because hair can make someone feel invincible. But the politics around it too often makes them feel exposed; particularly when you might also be worried that your gender identity might not be affirmed.
And it isn’t just Keiran doing good work here.
I used to visit a Turkish barber in Edinburgh which provided free hair cuts to people from the local homeless shelter every week.
They too understood how much dignity is attached to hair.
So next National Hair Day, let’s celebrate it properly.
Let’s give the stuff that grows – or in some cases doesn’t grow – out of our follicles the attention and recognition it deserves.
Jacq Kelly works in public affairs, and lives in Fife. She is a trustee of The Hive, Fife’s LGBT+ Centre in Kirkcaldy, and is accompanied through life by a lovely Guide Dog called Hillary.
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