Since forever, hair has been linked to the binary ideas of gender. It provides an external sign of one’s internal being. For women, we are conditioned to grow our hair out, to embrace our femininity and beauty through luscious locks that will outwardly present our identity as the world would understand it. Whether it is in pictorial representation from our history books, famous renaissance art, advertisements or film and media, longer hair seems the distinctive characteristic of womanhood. So, when that hair is purposefully removed, our conditioned response is “why?!”, “is she okay?” or “she must be going through something.” Although a new buzz can be a surprising hair choice for men known for their longer hair, the shock is limited to people closest to them. A buzz cut on a woman creates a shock that lingers. One that isn’t segregated to their inner circle who saw them before and after, but to anyone they encounter based on the preservation of gendered norms in our passing thoughts.

I don’t remember the moment Britney shaved her head, given I was only 7 and had not blossomed into the die-hard pop-culture fan I am now (unless the conversation revolved around Miley Cyrus or the Sprouse twins). However, the amount of coverage still remerging about the moment has forged that blip in time into a vivid memory. Terms like, “crazy”, “unwell” and finding humor in her mental struggles after the infamous video of her in the barber’s chair shaving her head, ignore the central reason she likely did it—to find release and feel in control of herself as everything was crashing around her. When we look back at that time now, we are able to understand more of her behaviours based on her battles in rehab and the restrictive conservatorship. Controlling when she worked and how much, what she ate and how much, and who she saw and how much, we can empathize with her, and acknowledge her humanity expressed through that moment.  

In the 90s and 2000s, Britney was America’s sweetheart and the music industry’s pop princess with all the traits of the “ideal” young woman - girly, bubbly and naive. These qualities aided her hypersexualization starting in her early teens and the constant prodding from male interviewers in hopes of being the lucky one to get juicy insight into her dating life and more importantly the status of her virginity. In a sense, we can see her buzzcut being just as much for everyone else as it was for herself. Shaving her head was the ultimate defiance to the pretty little blonde box that society and the media confined her to. On February 16, 2007, Britney shaved away every piece of that image in one go. 

When the Britney Spears documentaries came out last September we all watched with bitter disgust at the media coverage and criticisms she faced throughout her career. Almost exactly a year later, Dixie D’Amelio revealed her own (unassociated) buzzcut. Ironically, the conversations it sparked resembled a lot of the harshness from the 2000s, no matter how destigmatized we deem mental health to be now. It seems as though the more open one is about their mental health struggles,as both D’Amelio sisters have been throughout their Disney+ reality show, the more likely that any behaviour straying from social norms is deemed the fault of their diagnosis. I saw a clip of two popular male TikTokers (one of whom has become a frequent visitor to Kingston) passing their judgements on her hair style, and even laughing at her new look. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a Dixie stan, but I think in that moment she experienced something women jointly have at one point in their lives – people, especially straight men thinking their opinion has influence over how women live and look. The gender binary restricting women to look a certain way so as to be desirable by men has forged the conditions that push us to keep our hair long—to define our gender and sexual orientation by the strands growing off our head. Although mental health awareness has expanded immensely over the last decade, it is still a polarizing topic and one that is ambushed by judgment and misunderstanding, especially when it prompts visible change.

In modern society, a buzzcut remains closely associated with stereotypical masculinity. As the distinctive hair for the military, the cut brings up connotations of aggression and toughness – a hard exterior that is common and attractive for men but considered  unfeminine and undesirable on women. The empowerment behind a buzzcut has been utilized within queer identity as a means of challenging heteronormative ideals of beauty (Nylon). 

“It’s one of the most powerful forms of female expression—from its deepest roots in black and queer culture to the way it serves as a way for women to stake a claim on their bodies when dealing with health issues. Plus, it gives a big “fuck you” to societal gender norms.”

The overarching qualities of this hair transformation, outside of its use in the military, is that it expresses the power of choice in everyone’s personal journey. Studies have shown cutting one’s hair can provide a sense of control and emotional release, and a new beginning to explore all sides of their identity (Nylon). The rush that comes from holding a clean pair of scissors up to your hair, taking a slow, deep breath and then watching as the ends fall to the floor is like no other. That’s why we get excited about getting some new edgy bangs post-breakup, or a blunt bob pre-photo day because it is a chance to match our internal feelings with our outward image, self-defining moments in our life.  

I recently saw a quote on Pinterest that perfectly sums it up: “A buzzcut is as feminine as the person wearing it. It has no gender of its own and will highlight and emphasize the qualities of the wearer.” A buzz embodies femininity just as much as it embodies masculinity. It shows strength, self-assurance, confidence in the rawest form of beauty – taking away the ability to hide behind a hairstyle through full awareness of themselves. The discourse surrounding buzz cuts is one that is necessary in unpacking how tied up our culture remains in dichotomies of gender. Rather than reflecting on why she chose to cut her hair, might we instead reflect on why we care so much? It is fair to be surprised at first, that is a common way of expressing emotion, and after letting the natural acknowledgement of change subside, let’s get over it. 

After all, it’s just hair.

Illustrated by: Sadie Levine