DIVA digs into the history of haircuts and how they’ve always helped us feel seen
BY LUCY CHUNG, IMAGE BY SEVENTY FOUR / CANVA
The “big chop” is not a term that seems to be cemented in lesbian history archives, but it is often used colloquially within the community when someone cuts their long hair short.
The phrase itself communicates something sudden and daring, a rejection of expectations. It is undeniably a queer rite of passage, and signals that you have shed the beauty standards of heteronormative society.
The “big chop” also holds significance within the black and POC natural hair movement. Within this context, it means cutting off damaged hair to embrace their natural hair texture. Though there’s been some overlap, and the term does embody the queer trend, this, of course, begs recognition.
The pursuit of a good hair day, however, is something universal. Everybody wants to feel they have a cut that makes them feel confident and like themselves.
Within queer and intersectional communities, hairstyle signals your identity. Cutting your hair to shorter lengths for many sapphics is an important step in making themselves visible not just to queer people but to heterosexual people also.
Many lesbians can recall their first time walking into an alternative hairdresser’s or barbers and finally getting a haircut they align with. Whether you’ve gone mod-mullet, Sophie Thatcher cut, or finger coils or fro, every queer woman is chasing that nod of recognition from other lesbians as they walk down the street.
That recognition can also be challenging to embrace. Audrey Gagnon wrote in an article titled The Hair Makes The Dyke for Xtra!, that a DIY haircut fail led to her being forced to don a punk mullet that made her feel uncomfortably visible, stating, “I don’t feel any different, but I know I’ll no longer be able to remain comfortably ambiguous, hidden behind a look that says, ‘Hi there. I might be a lesbian, but I’m a nice non-threatening lesbian…’”
Getting the “big chop” is certainly a statement. It aligns queer women with a long line of their foresisters who similarly enjoyed a shorter crop. Eleanor Medhurst, on her blog Dressing Dykes has created a fascinating resource documenting queer hairstyles over the generations.
The tradition of lesbians with short hair spans the stretch of time. The 18th century began the phenomenon of “female husbands” who would pass as men for various reasons, such as greater independence, preferred gender expression and, of course, sexuality.
Androgyny and its ability to challenge heterosexual hegemonies became a greater theme in the 20th century. Styles like the Eton crop became devilishly stylish, and many chased after a boyish style in the name of modernism. This gave lesbians greater room for expression whilst also allowing them to avoid speculation.
In the following decades, the trend died down. Shorter hair became a declaration, a way to claim space and community. In the 50s and 60s, the rise of butch-femme gendered expression saw styles like the ducktail and bouffant create the tension and parody of heterosexuality on the lesbian body.
A more androgynous style remained popular through the 70s, through to the 90s as part of a “lesbian uniform”. Though as short hair became cemented as an expectation in many lesbian circles, some people felt outcasted as they felt the style was not for them.
This was not just white cis people alienated by their own fashion subcultures, but also people of colour. Black and South Asian women often faced rejection from lesbian bars for not conforming to white cis standards.
Lesbian poet and critic Cheryl Clarke wrote in her 1981 essay, Lesbianism: An Act of Resistance, about how embracing blackness in lesbian spaces is a way of resisting expectations and “decolonising the body”.
Indeed, while white lesbians were donning their short crops and razor cuts, the natural hair movement was also in full swing. Afros, braids and headwraps were and are equally expressions of queerness and indeed a resistance to the idea that there should be such a thing as “uniform” within resistance movements.
If you’re considering the big chop, go for it! It’s an exciting way to embrace your history and sexuality. Otherwise, know that any haircut that makes a sapphic person feel affirmed in their identity is a queer cut, short or otherwise.
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