“You have nice hair. Why cut it all off?”

Letterpress printed linocut. Signed & numbered limited edition of 150. 

Image area 3.75" x 6" printed on 5.5" x 8.5" acid free Mohawk Via paper.

Completed January 2019.

About the print

At this time in my life, I had decided to grow out my hair to donate. From the time I made that decision, the hair was no longer mine. I felt like a hair farm as I tended and cared for my future recipient’s locks. It took me several years to grow my hair out to a sufficient length for donation and I was looking forward to having it removed.

Hair is for many a deeply personal appendage, one that helps to shape one’s identity. Its length can also sometimes conflict with one’s sense of self. “You have nice hair. Why cut it all off?" is a phrase often heard by women who voice plans to alter their appearance by removing one of their most quintessential and recognizable “female” accessories, long hair.

While first offering a complement, the interrogator then questions the decision-making of an intelligent adult, denying their autonomy. A decision to trim one’s locks is framed as a revolutionary act, one of protest and rebellion. In doing so, the interrogator disapproves by confirming their own preferences and questioning and shaming a woman’s decision to make choices about her own body and appearance. As an individual whose hair has occupied a full spectrum of lengths, I’ve experienced this phrase, and versions of it, only when I’ve decided to shorten my hair, never while growing it out.

This type of underhanded compliment highlights the pressures faced by individuals to conform to a cis/hetero desirable norm of femaleness by offering only a narrow description of the acceptable ideal. As if there is little more to female-identifying souls than their appearance alone.

About the Tomboy series

The Tomboy series addresses a lifetime of being perceived as "other" in a society entitled to the comfort of easily identifiable categories. Strangers assume the authority to pose personal questions, casually bypassing autonomy and privacy in order to satisfy their own intrusive curiosity. Because at a glance I cannot be easily identified as a male or female by some, others assert that I have given up my right to privacy because of my perceived dubious deception.

This intrusion is tied to suspicions of gender, sexuality, personality, and personal history that are suspected to deviate from an assumed acceptable binary/cis-hetero convention. Even seemingly well-meaning comments made by friends and loved ones echo a desire to control by claiming personal preferences, thereby placing restrictions on acceptable gender norms concerning appearance, language, confidence, mannerisms, and even occupation.

This ongoing series documents phrases I have collected from my interactions with strangers, coworkers, colleagues, family, friends, and loved ones. The phrases are paired with self-portraits that serve to illustrate or challenge these indelible and oftentimes upsetting, intrusive confrontations.

This image is copyright 2019 Mary Louise Sullivan. Purchase of this print does not transfer any rights to the image. This image may not be reused or reproduced in any way whatsoever.