Why does laser hair removal feel anti-feminist? 

“I’m not doing anything wrong by wanting to conform to some of society’s beauty standards.”

Last week, I got a Hollywood Brazilian and underarm and upper-lip laser hair removal treatment (just writing this makes me shudder). I was lying on the treatment bed, legs spread “like a frog” (as my clinician so delicately put it), pubic hair burning and dignity rather fragile, when I thought to myself ‘Why on earth am I doing this to myself?’. 

This definitely wouldn’t be the first time I’ve questioned why I get the hair removed from the most delicate parts of my body every four weeks – I think about it whenever I book in for another painful session – and it always feels like a game of tug-of-war in my mind. 

We like nosy people. Don’t be shy, head to our Beauty section for more. 

When I opt to remove my body hair (particularly my pubic hair) I feel like I’m literally buying into the patriarchy and conforming to society’s impossible beauty standards. I identify as a staunch feminist and I worry that by getting rid of my body hair, I’m somehow ‘defying’ the feminist code. 

I began shaving my legs at the ripe old age of twelve when I saw that everyone else in year seven already appeared to have silky-smooth calves. My mum was so resistant to the idea that she made me wait a few months, before finally giving in to my pleas. I remember the first time I shaved in the shower, with strict instructions from Mum to only go up to under my knees. 

At the time, I didn’t understand why she was so opposed to the idea of her twelve-year-old daughter shaving but I kind of get it now. I was a short, shy little girl, still light years away from being capable of thinking about what the removal of body hair meant to me. In my head, everyone else was shaving, so I needed to shave. And so, I shaved. 

At first, it was up to the knees, then the mid-thigh, and eventually, all the way up my legs. Then, I grew armpit hair, and that had to go. When I was 15, I decided that my pubic hair could no longer stay either. I was in a frenzy, shaving almost every day (who can be bothered?) and plucking hairs out in between showers. 

Eventually, I grew out of the hair removal hysteria. Although I’ve always shaved my legs, I’ve gone through phases of shaving, growing out and simply trimming my pubic hair. During lockdown, when my dating life got completely put on hold, I grew it out to a bush. When I got back into going on dates, I automatically started removing my pubic hair again (I didn’t even stop to think about it). 

It’s only since I started seeing the guy who turned out to be my current boyfriend that I started questioning why I go to such lengths to be bare down there. Monthly laser appointments, aside from being physically unpleasant, cost a fair bit. Sessions at my clinic range from $32 (minimum) to the rather abhorrent $72 that I paid the other day (abhorrent). I think it was that almost comical amount of money that made me really wonder why I do this to myself.

Whenever the topic arises between me and my sister, who is both a feminist and a fellow laser hair participant, she always has some very wise counsel for me. Firstly, she says we have to acknowledge the existence of beauty standards. We, as humans, have these and that’s never going to change. If we didn’t have beauty standards, we wouldn’t feel the need to change or ‘fix’ our bodies. 

Secondly, if it’s going to make you feel better about yourself to shave/laser/wax your hair, then do it. You can believe two different things at once: I have accepted that I’m an unwavering feminist and that removing my pubic hair doesn’t diminish my beliefs in women’s rights and equality. 

Do what you want, but know that what you want is influenced by a million social norms. Which is true of everything, isn’t it? Our thoughts, feelings, ideas, what we eat, what we read – it’s all affected by what the people around us are doing and by what society says we ‘should’ be doing. 

So maybe I have to accept that although the radical feminists may frown upon me getting my hair lasered, I’m not doing anything wrong by wanting to conform to some of society’s beauty standards. And I feel pretty good about that.

For more on hair removal and feminism, try this.