In a recent encounter where a guy began with, “I know I am not supposed to say this, but…” I’ve decided I needed to set some things straight “…but my mom is a hair dresser, and I’m sure I could help you arrange a volumizing treatment or something.” There was about a minute of stunned silence in which I waited for the string of insulting comebacks, ‘though-doth-protest-too-much’—like explanations, and the simple shock to wear off. Call me vain, but never in my life has a boy thought it his Good Samaritan duty to offer me hair advice. I explained my surprise to said boy, and to his credit, he tried to apologize: “You’re usually so put together that I just thought you’d want to know your hair needed work.” But I won’t lie; it stung.
With this encounter fresh in my mind, I attended the Women’s Studies Society’s first YC event (of which we are very proud!): a screening of Miss Representation. The film, among other things, discusses the media’s propulsion of unattainable ideals of body and dress for women. In the after-film discussion, one YC student raised an excellent point. He noted that the women interviewed for the film, though bemoaning the damages of media-propagated fantastical standards for women, were themselves bedazzled and decked in layers of makeup. This YC student also pointed out that, bereft of these trappings, these women would never be taken seriously. He so perfectly identified a serious double standard. On the one hand, society can acknowledge that the vast majority of women on TV are fantastical, but on the other, women who want to go far in life are expected to maintain a heightened standard of attention to their appearance.
I decided to take a poll and see how this standard factored into the consciousness of my peers. Via a Google doc survey, I asked people what went into their thought process if and when they put effort into their dress. A few people mentioned professional occasions calling for specific garb, but the overwhelming majority asserted that dressing was about pleasing themselves. The factors given included artistic expression, molding their own mood and a general attempt to feel good in their own skin. Of the twenty-eight people who responded, only two specifically listed the opposite sex in their considerations when dressing. Only handful of others, in afterthought, admitted that in certain settings they’d consider the opposite sex when dressing. Not shockingly, the Stern students who responded said they’d sooner worry about other women’s opinions than a certain guy’s.
Of course, I would be the first to admit that the survey was incomplete. If I’d had a larger sample and collected the answers anonymously, would more people have confessed to dressing with the opposite sex in mind? Would I have found more who consider the image they project on a professional level? Perhaps. And what I really wanted to know was, who has it worse? When it comes to getting dressed, is it safe to assume that more is expected of girls? Or would that make me guilty of unfair sexist thinking?
Which brings me back to my first story. In that minute I spent utterly flabbergasted, I wondered at the injustice of the encounter. This guy was dressed in a standard YU button down and khakis. Presumptuously, I dare to assume it took him all of ten minutes to select the combo, if that. And his hair was not done. Yet, to be considered ‘put together’ I had to have my hair done perfectly. I am not a Feminist who’s ever baulked at the idea of a pretty new dress or a trip to the nail salon. I love clothing and dressing up. It’s usually a lot of fun. But no one should have to. It’s a choice.
So no, I did not appreciate the friendly commentary concerning minutia of my wardrobe. No, I did not offer my litany of style tips to this friend, though I could have. And no, I will not end this rant with a cheesy plea to judge others on things that really matter. But I will add, that should you encounter a colleague, a friend, or a date whose hair is not done to perfection, before you make wild assumptions or decide things about her you couldn’t possibly know, check the mirror and ask: is my hair done? Or are you holding someone else to standards you don’t remotely begin to meet yourself?
This piece is a bit more of a ranting anecdote than a scathing bit of journalism. But it’s all in the Purim spirit. I welcome commentary and/or disagreement. Stay tuned for more from the Women’s Studies Society.