Desmond Morris - 'The Naked Woman' - Pt. 2: Hair, The Crowning Glory!

'Just a trim please...'

Strangely enough I had an example that bought home to me just how important hair can be when cross-dressing a few weeks ago. Basically I'd spent ages selecting just the right dress and accessories for a night in town. I'd packed it all, taken it up, got changed then gone to put on the make-up..... and realised I'd forgotten my wig!

Total disaster. If I'd of forgotten earrings, tights, lipstick, shoes even...well I could have coped. I would have been peeved... but I would have coped. 

But having no wig was devastating and I ended up changing back again, packing everything up and having a semi-miserable night in a semi-miserable sulk. As all cross-dressers know, it's when the wig goes on that the show really starts.  But why is this? And how has hair become such a potent visual signal? Desmond Morris takes a closer look at the subject of women and their hair in chapter two of 'The Naked Woman', specifically from the point of view of a zoologist.

If women let their hair grow as nature intended it would either be down to their knees or frame their face with a huge woolly bush which, Morris suggests, would have provided a remarkable sight when our prehistoric ancestors were on the move. [edit: Since I published this the 'Dangerous Minds' website has published an article of Victorian women who never cut their hair.  Imagine this lot naked and trekking across the plains of the Serengeti!  Long Victorian hair ] Primates do have a variety of ways of using their hair with a range of colours, tufts and crests  but the human females ability to grow an almost cape-like fringe over their body seems at first more of an encumbrance than a help. Odd enough in itself but even odder is the fact that the human female is pretty much hairless every where else (apart from armpits and groin), which is another sign of neotany or the tendency to retain juvenile features. According to Morris the stunted form of female body hair is about the same as on a 26 week old chimpanzee foetus! So why should we have this long top hair on our head and downy foetal body hair almost everywhere else?

Well, the best guess seems to be that it acts as a 'species flag', with hair providing a strong visual image. This allowed our ancestors to identify their own kind from a distance and then, when closer, the hairy-faced males could also be distinguishable from smooth females. The different types of hair (allied to skin colour) then developed to allow quick identification of different habitat-specific types. Morris suggests that the spread of humanity out of Africa into different habitats triggered evolutionary adaptations but that these adaptations only started in a few specific areas - hair, numbers of sweat glands, skin pigmentation - before the consequences of our intelligence made them irrelevant. Now, as we are pretty much removed from the effects of specific environments and move about and mingle throughout the world these differences will eventually disappear.

Good, strong roots are essential for women's hair

But on to the specifics of female hair...as Morris notes, it has been everything from a woman's crowning glory to the subject of strict religious taboos, in fact  "...no other part of the female body has been subjected to such an incredible range of cultural variation." . Of course it comes in a range of shades and Morris gives the rough estimate of hairs on a human head as being 100,000. Blonde hair is finer so they pack more in at an average of 140,000. Brunettes have 108,000 and Redheads 90,000. It grows at about 13cm a year (18cm for young adults) and usually grows to just over a meter in length before finally dropping out - far longer than in any other primate, partly because we don't have a seasonal moult and just keep on growing. Morris then goes into the cultural variation in hair - how it's treated, worn or concealed, sometimes through style but more often through the requirements to work. One effect that he notes is due to the physical attraction that males find in female hair, how it both looks and feels and this dangerous expression on feminine sexuality quite often has to be tamed and removed from the male gaze. Religions often prescribe female hair, either under headscarves, veils, nun's wimples or the hats that women were required to wear in church where their menfolk had to take theirs off! In general, he notes, women with shaved heads have never really appealed to the majority of men, as witnessed by the shaving off of hair of French women who slept with the occupying forces in the Second World War.

One other thing that Morris points out is the fact that the vast majority of hair dyes purchased  tend to look at lightening the hair, emulating the blonde look and creating a situation where there are more artificial blondes in the world than there are real ones. Why is this? 

One fact comes down to the fineness of the hair itself. Blond hair is softer, smoother and more sensual than other coarser hairs, especially on the body, armpits and pubic area so it could be that this is an attractive trait that dying seeks to emulate. Of course it doesn't actually make the hair finer, but the association in the eye of the male is there...

Secondly, and we are back to the neotany thing again, being blond is a far more juvenile characteristic than having dark hair and it sends out unconscious 'take care of me signals' to interested males! Most children have lighter hair than their adults so the blonde female is again tapping into this rich vein of empathy with her 'baby blonde locks'.

Well, it's OK if you really like the look I suppose...

Morris points out that the numbers of women bleaching their hair has led to a strange distinction between natural and dyed blondes. Over the centuries natural blondes have been seen as almost angelic, child-like innocents whilst dyed blondes (obviously with sex on their minds) have been seen as harlots. Roman prostitutes had to wear blonde wigs as the uniform of their profession and 'bottle blondes' had a reputation for good times and fast living in Hollywood.

So that's it with hair. Everyone it seems  wants blonde hair because it's softer, finer, sexually tactile and you only get light fuzz on your body as well as making you look more child-like. Could be why gentlemen prefer blondes I supppose... 

Personally the next time I'm thinking about a new wig I think I'd love a redhead style but then that's probably just as well, all things considered.

Acting the Part - Exploring Gender on a Hot Summers Day

 "A fun workshop in a safe space and setting for first time gender experimenters and the curious to lose their inhibitions and explore first hand playing around with gender. Basically lots of cross dressing, make up and wigs combined with theatre games, and a few drinks thrown in!"

Light, bright and a lovely place to work
- The Soho Collective

Saturday 22nd of August and we suddenly have one hot summer's day amongst the banks of rain clouds rolling up from the south. Normally a chance to get out and revel in the sun, but not today. In fact for me the heat was about the worst weather option that could have happened, considering what I had in store. I'm not at all comfortable when the temperature rises so summer for me is generally considered the cross-dressing 'off season' (not 'closed season' please note - never that...). But there I was on the tube to Soho with the full kit-and-caboodle in a bag (and some!) looking forward to a trip to the Soho Collective on Moor Street. I was also running a bit late which only added to my general discomfort so all in all I wasn't ideally prepared when I finally nipped in through the front door...

I'd first seen mention of the Gender Workshop on the TVChix website but it was soon apparent that it was also advertised in a few other places as well and a couple of things about it appealed (apart from the obvious keywords like 'crossdressing',  'make up', 'wigs' and 'drinks' of course)  For one thing it wasn't just a M2F event. It was an open invitation to anyone who wanted to explore and play around with gender, which was a bit refreshing really. I thought it would be interesting to mix with others approaching it from a different angle than my own, to hopefully have a few cis gender females for example, and maybe to do something a bit different. Secondly I saw that Cindy of the 'boyswillbegirls' dressing service was one of the facilitators and would be doing the make up and as everyone said how lovely she was (and as I'm pretty rubbish with make up) that was a definite plus too. And thirdly... well it was just a great opportunity to get dressed, have some fun and maybe see if anything unexpected or unanticipated came out of the day!

Like this, only on a rotund middle aged man... Easy!

So after a bit of thought I'd signed up and paid up and been welcomed onto the course. As the big day loomed, amongst other things we had been encouraged to think of a character or archetype that we'd like to explore, of any gender. Partly out of convenience (so I wouldn't have to buy anything) I'd gone with a 30s femme fatale, impossibly-chic Vogue model-type of looks that I've always found so fascinating. I think it's the accentuating of the curves and the elegant pose that attracted me to this particular style - certainly not the practicalities of replicating them on my frame on a hot summers day! But then that's half the fun and frustration of being a cross-dresser - setting yourself apparently unachievable targets but really having fun trying to get somewhere, anywhere, near the ballpark with them. Anyway, by the time it was apparent that the weather really required thin white cotton dresses like a Cadbury's Flake girl in a flower meadow, I was already packed and ready to go. It seems I was destined to be film noir on a sunny day!

So, on my slightly breathless and definitely warm arrival I made my way up the stairs to join the waiting group (yes I was a little late) and we then had a quick chance to chat whilst grabbing a glass of water. Without getting into too much detail on the other participants (and we agreed not to publish photos of each other either) it seems we were a smallish but quite diverse group. One  middle-aged TV on their own (me); another TV the same age as me with cis female partner; a third TV in their 30s, a non TV male open to trying something new and a cis female, also up for something new and intrigued at the possibility of exploring the masculine (I hope these rather broad descriptions are acceptable. I'm using the term TV as a short- hand really as I'm not sure how the individuals would prefer to be described and of course I'm happy to change it if you let me know).

So, with us all nervously trying to cool down, our workshop leader (ex-drag artiste, current yoga instructor and all-round nice guy) Alexander went through the introductions giving us a flavour of what was to come. Roughly speaking it would consist of periods of introductions, theatre exercises, transformations, character exploration, expedition, feedback & debrief. Quite a menu really. As it turned out Alexander was also having a party after the event that we were all invited to attend, so in effect meeting all his guests almost constituted a separate phase in itself! Alongside Alexander and Cindy was theatre director Clemence making up the third member of the team. It was Clemence with her professional acting background that took the lead in the various warm-ups and exercises that constituted the first section.

Independent cat is not impressed

Now I have to confess something here. I'm not generally the world's best at theatre style warm-ups, especially those tacked on to the start of training or team away-days. Nor even those sessions when you have to say which animal you most resemble and then listen to the umpteenth person tell you that cats are independent and give out love on their own terms! thank you very much. And then no-one thinks you're clever if you plump for a Puffin, basically because it's very friendly and enjoys a good fish supper. I mean those sort of 'warm ups' are bad enough but put in something physical and I'm straight on full evade/undermine mode, along with everyone other than the team exhibitionist of course, who really can't wait...

Well anyway it wasn't like that. Mainly I think because I'd decided to come, paid to be there and by jingo I was going to get my money's worth! So I threw myself into them with gusto, if not much experience. Actually some of the exercises were very interesting, like walking in a crowd and catching the eye of someone approaching - hold the gaze for five seconds as you pass - then break. That's quite hard as I didn't realise how little I look at others faces until I had to catch their eyes and maintain it - and then it went up to ten seconds and that was really hard! I wasn't sure how to hold a facial expression either for so long. What do you do? Smile? Be serious? Be aware that you're no oil painting? Be slightly awkward that you're unabashedly staring at a woman? All very tricky.

As these exercises progressed, individuals started going out to Cindy for the make-up phase and coming back looking... well, very different. After a few had been made up we sort of reached a critical mass and then it was the 'transformation phase' where we all went off to finish the make-up and to change into our characters. Many sensible and interesting outfits were tried and tested but only one was daft enough to go all theatrical and to require cleavage boosting, seamed nylons, hat-pins and various sets of pearls. Consequently I fear I took far, far longer than everyone else to get ready and was probably quite unpopular and no doubt labelled dammingly as the team exhibitionist, before I could finally sweep back to rejoin the group. So then we had some more exercises and discussions around either the character we inhabited or how we felt, depending on where people felt comfortable. I was very much a 'character' and happy to answer as though I'd just come off the set of a black and white movie but others felt they had to answer the questions truthfully and as themselves. This was very interesting and I'm not sure it was all that expected by the facilitators. We were all there for different reasons of course, but at that point it seemed to me that some were investing a great deal more than others to explore of the nuances of gender and that it might not necessarily be a pain-free experience either. This section of the day was possibly the least straightforward, possibly the least assured and yet possibly the most insightful. Not for everyone maybe but it seemed that it might be for those that were struggling with gender as opposed to those who were exploring it. And maybe that rough division amongst the participants was significant as well in determining how succesful the day had been for each of them, I'm not sure, that thought's a little deep for me really so I'll just back off and leave it there...

Anyway, next up was the TASK!

It was Titanic all over again...

And out task was to go out dressed onto the streets of Soho to buy some ice and wine for the upcoming post-workshop party. Not too bad and everyone seemed up for it (there was an opt out for this one) so off we went as a mad gaggle of drag and drabbies, past the cafes and bars down to the shop on the corner of Frith Street. We were certainly gaining attention and no doubt a few comments, but I tend to be in a bit of a 'can't hear, won't hear' mode when I'm out so I just carried on, as did everyone else. As it turned out they had no ice in store so on I went with one of our 'male' participants (I'll call him Julian, as that's what he called himself) to a wine shop called Gerry's on Old Compton Street. For some reason the assistant looked a bit nonplussed when we went in, which suprised me for a Soho shop really, but a bottle of white Rioja was puchased, along with two bags of ice, and Julian dutifully shouldered the burden of the ice for the stroll back. I of course, held on to the wine...

Having all succesfully returned to base it was time for a debrief, and interestingly Julian said how protective he had felt walking along with us.Whether he was reacting in  protective male manner or a supportive female manner I'm not sure, but it was an interesting reaction I thought. I can't say I felt particularly protective toward anyone else, but then I'm probably oblivious and only looking out for number one ;-)  Did Julian feel threatened himself in any way I wonder? Probably not as I suspect he was too busy looking after us to worry about himself.

View From The Top

After the debrief the workshop came to a close. Some got changed and left but most of us stayed around for the party and chatted at length to the facilitators and other participants. As a bonus we all ended up on the roof with its great views down on Soho and many photos were taken, even if some of us were looking distinctly frowsy by that stage of the evening. I think it only fair to report that I was indeed the last trans standing before taking off the make-up and disappearing into the evening.

The journey home was interesting as I ended up chatting to a hen-party of policewomen on the tube, complimenting someone on their dress and then stopping off for some chips and a gherkin. It was only on my return home that my wife commented on the fact that I''d merely smudged my eye make-up and in fact looked like a debauched middle-aged Alice Cooper. Which is not bad really as he looks like a debauched old Alice Cooper these days and still gets away with it. 

So if I scared you on the tube last Saturday I apologise, but when you've had a fun evening exploring gender it does actually seems quite an apt way to end the day...