Bush Being Political, Not Barbara’s Husband

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Mona Leafah
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Somewhere along the way, a woman having body hair became a public emergency.

A stray underarm hair? Society calls a meeting. A visible leg follicle? Suddenly, everyone is a dermatologist, a stylist, and a concerned citizen with absolutely no business in anyone else’s shower.

The Great Follicle Emergency

Well, I have decided to take a stand.

Not a loud stand. Not a chaos stand. A demure, moisturized, elegantly unbothered stand.

I am embracing my body hair.

Because I am an adult woman. Adults grow hair.

It is not a scandal, a personal failure, or an invitation for somebody to explain razor subscriptions to me. It is biology with a little texture.

Yes, It Is Political

Not in the “oh, yes, please debate my armpit on a podcast” way…

In the quieter, more powerful way, you ready? 

I refuse to participate in a culture that treats women’s natural bodies as problems
to be corrected before we are allowed to exist in public.

A woman can be polished, feminine,
sensual, professional, soft, powerful,
and (brace yourself) slightly fuzzy.

The horror.

Femininity Is Not a Maintenance Plan

For years, we have been sold the idea that
femininity requires endless maintenance:

shave, wax, pluck, laser, conceal, okay, now apologize.

Be smooth enough to be acceptable, but never vain.
Be desirable, but never too aware of it. Spend the money, spend the time,
and please , babe, do it quietly….

No thank you.

My femininity does not disappear because I skipped a grooming appointment.
It does not need permission from a razor aisle. It is not held together by a three-blade cartridge and a pink tax markup.

My Body Is Not a Group Project


Choosing not to remove body hair is not about neglect. It is about ownership.

I can shave when I want to.
I can wax when I want to.
I can let it grow when I want to.

So can you! <3

The point is that the choice belongs to us…

not to beauty standards designed to keep women preoccupied with being “presentable” at all times.

There is something deeply feminine about deciding that your body is not a group project.

A Small, Silky-Sleeved Rebellion

So this is my small, silky-sleeved rebellion:

a raised arm, an unshaven leg,
a refusal to act embarrassed by evidence that I am a living mammal.

Hate to break it to you, but bush IS political. 

And no, Barbara’s husband has nothing to do with it.


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