From the clamshell razors and homemade lye depilatories used in colonial America to the diode lasers and prescription pharmaceuticals available today, Americans have used a staggering array of tools to remove hair deemed unsightly, unnatural, or excessive. This is true especially for women and girls; conservative estimates indicate that 99% of American women have tried hair removal, and at least 85% regularly remove hair from their faces, armpits, legs, and bikini lines. How and when does hair become a problem--what makes some growth "excessive"? Who or what separates the necessary from the superfluous?
In Plucked, historian Rebecca Herzig addresses these questions about hair removal. She shows how, over time, dominant American beliefs about visible hair changed: where once elective hair removal was considered a "mutilation" practiced primarily by "savage" men, by the turn of the twentieth century, hair-free faces and limbs were expected for women. Visible hair growth--particularly on young, white women--came to be perceived as a sign of political extremism, sexual deviance, or mental illness. By the turn of the twenty-first century, more and more Americans were waxing, threading, shaving, or lasering themselves smooth. Herzig's extraordinary account also reveals some of the collateral damages of the intensifying pursuit of hair-free skin. Moving beyond the experiences of particular patients or clients, Herzig describes the surprising histories of race, science, industry, and medicine behind today's hair-removing tools. Plucked is an unsettling, gripping, and original tale of the lengths to which Americans will go to remove hair.
More than 99% of US American women voluntarily remove their body hair. More than 85% do so regularly. While body hair removal practices have existed across cultures across time, in the 19th and early 20th centuries there was an unprecedented effort to make body hair removal mandatory for women in the US. As white men became increasingly fixated on controlling white women’s beauty regimens, hairlessness became re-signified as a symbol of racial progress and superiority.
Despite the wide range in hairiness within races, 19th century European thinkers argued that hair was a marker of racial difference. New instruments like the trichometer were designed to quantify hair differences among races. After 1859, many scientists misused Darwin’s theory of evolution to argue that race was an evolutionary continuum where “savages” (racialized people) were closer to animals and white “civilized” people were the most evolved form of human. In this view, body hair was seen as a marker of animality and degeneracy (an indication that a people had not evolved into civilized humanity).
Maintenance of white women’s “proper” physical appearance became about maintaining the “health” of the white race in the face of migration and racial unrest. One of the prevailing eugenic ideas upheld by scientists was that more “advanced” civilizations had more of a visible difference between males and females. Mandating that white women remove their hair emphasized the visual contrast between white men and women. This allowed white thinkers to argue that the white race was superior to racial others who were demonized as sexually ambiguous. Over time, any hair on a white woman’s body became seen as excessive. Body hair became symbolically associated with dirtiness because of its cultural association with racialized people.
In 1876 the American Dermatological Association began to be concerned with “hypertrichosis” (a condition that pathologized extensive body hair) focusing specifically on white women. Magazines promoted models of white, hairless feminine beauty and campaigns that discussed hair removal as “remedying” evil and removing racial markers. Jewish, Italian, and Eastern European migrants in particular were targeted by advertising for x-ray epilation under the idea that body hair removal would allow them to integrate into Anglo-dominant whiteness. This led to hundreds (if not thousands) of women dying from these procedures.
Hairy people became put on display in “freak shows” across the country to reinforce that white “civilized” peple had advanced from this “primitive state.” These racial politics continued into the Cold War when body hair was linked to evidence of “foreign” contamination. In the 20th century with the expansion of white women into the workplace, men’s economic dominance over women and the distinctions between sexes was challenged. Men had long defined their supremacy by their exclusive labor power. Women’s economic mobility challenged this equation.
Regulating women’s appearance was a strategy to maintain control over women and heighten the contrast between men and women (which was still understood as a marker of civilization). “Hairy women” became synonymous with “failed women.” In other words, throughout the 19th and 20th century, compulsory body hair removal for women became a form of gendered social control to stabilize the sex binary in the face of imminent collapse.
We must end the idea that femininity = hairlessness and the societal expectation of women’s hairlessness. Body hair has no gender. People should have the choice to maintain or remove their body hair and this shouldn’t influence how they are treated. There is #NothingWrongHair
The majority of this book is what you think it’s going to be: a delightful history of the crazy ways womenfolk shear themselves smooth.
Plucked is also, however, an in-depth look body’s interplay with both race and scientific advancement.
The book, surprisingly, starts out with a group judged for not having enough body hair: the Native Americans. White people — seemingly desperate to grab at any straws in pursuit of “manifest destiny” — thought the Natives’ hairlessness was unnatural. Weak. A rugged man-beard was a sign of a brawny man’s man.
Then, of course, the narrative hops over to women. Sorry, dames: no hair below the neck.
Why?
Because we’re evolving away from apes, and should look like it. (Thanks, Darwin?)
Or because a “white, smooth” complexion is the tops.
Or because certain hair types “indicate insanity.” (Ah, the things people try to prove.)
Or because hair removal is an outward indication that you have time and money to throw around. (What’s so wrong with teaching oneself crochet instead?)
Or because it’s a porn standard. Or because it’s part of the “third shift.”
And oh — the horrors involved in removing it. I won’t delve into too much detail here, because that’s what the book is for but… voluntary radiation. If that doesn’t pique your interest, I don’t know what to tell you.
Overall, this book was really interesting and moved along briskly. I dug it.
The history of hair removal is way more interesting than I'd expected.
Herzig starts with a poorly understood fact of early American history: the Native Americans were perceived as having less body hair than Europeans, and this (like everything back then) was used to trumpet the Christian/European superiority. Yet even then there was disagreement over whether the lesser body hair was due to a natural deficiency, or, well, to assiduous plucking.
Then we move on, as hair removal becomes a serious business for women, with creams and potions and snake oils that at worst failed to remove the undesirable hair, and at worst caused serious disfigurement. Herzig does a fine job at tracking the attitudes of different eras toward the hair, as the problem is gradually medicalized into "hirsutism" but doctors struggle to define just how much hair qualifies as a clinical problem.
Scientific answers to medical problems became all the rage, and X-ray salons were actually very popular for a time! (Yes, prolonged exposure to X-rays will make hair fall out, but no, it's really not worth getting cancer for.)
At the same time that hair removal practices are evolving, so too are the places where hair is considered "excess." It may not be that surprising to learn that underarm hair is a fairly recent such area, but legs even more so. Herzig spends a blessedly brief time on the bikini-waxing craze, but by the end of the book I felt like I really had a firm grasp on how attitudes toward different types of body hair, and the procedures that arose out of those attitudes, have changed throughout American history. There were plenty of footnotes and it seemed quite well-researched; I would say this is more a scholarly work than one might expect, but well worth a read if histories of somewhat nontraditional topics (e.g., Salt: A World History) interest you. Frankly, this book would be an excellent companion to -- or a follow-up for fans of -- The Poisoner's Handbook: Murder and the Birth of Forensic Medicine in Jazz Age New York.
With a name like Plucked, I was expecting this to read a bit more like a Mary Roach book -- like Stiff or Gulp, informative and smart but also funny. Herzig's Plucked is informative and smart, but it's never funny. It's deadly serious. This kind of book, however, should be judged on what it is rather than what it's not. And it is a very impressive academic text that reveals a great deal more about the history of hair removal than I thought possible, examining the topic from a variety of angles and contextualizing it within a huge, interconnected sociological web. Herzig also avoids making judgements outright, though I appreciated how she made some subtle moral points in the concluding section.
This is great work.
** I received an ARC of this book via NetGalley **
I finally picked this book up for 2 reasons: 1. Someone i'm very close to told me they're spending a relatively large amount of money, especially considering both of our similarly low incomes, on laser hair removal to remove all of her armpit, leg, and pubic hair and 2. The amount of marketing I've seen for body modification drugs and products (Botox, implants, weight loss pills) has greatly increased in the past few years. These have really made me wonder: how did we get here and where are we headed in a "body enhancing" society?
I stopped shaving during college because I personally did not find the time it took, the money for razors, or the ecological impact of using plastic razors worth it to me. Of course, someone's decision to remove or grow out any hair on their body is their choice, but not a choice made in a vacumm. We downplay how the influence of societal norms and values impact the choices we make about our bodies in the name of liberation, but is it really liberating to have to constantly be beholden to corporations (in the case of purchasing razors) and/or sometimes endure immense pain (in the case of waxing and laser removal) to remove our body hair? I've been curious for a while now why most women identifying people I know choose to remove body hair and it's seen as unwanted by so many. How do hairless legs and long head hair read as clean and feminine where the opposite reads as masculine or queer at best and disgusting and dirty at worse? Why is it still such a big statement in some settings to not shave your legs and armpits?
If you've pondered these same things, I recommend reading this book. Of course, the answers to all my questions are complicated and I think Dr. Herzig does a great job walking you through the history of body hair removal in America as well as all the elements that are currently in play that keeps so many of us spending the time and money to continue to "control" our body hair. This book ended up being more philosophical than I anticipated which I really liked; she does more than lay out the history, she draws connections in a lot of unexpected ways which I found fascinating.
Now, this book had me really curious. Hair removal. I've worked in the medical field for over 17 years and these kind of books just jump out and scream for me to read them. This was a interesting read. I'll give it to the author she did her research and knows a lot when it comes to this topic. I did learn a lot and I will tuck away all of it in my brain for trivia night or just to mind boggle someone. Good read if your into interesting history topics.
During lockdown, following the suggestion of a friend of mine, I bought a Lumia device to fight unwanted hairs. With all the money and time I have spent in waxing and razors I thought "well, maybe this way I can fight this burden from the confort of my own sofa". But after reading Ms Herzig I feel a little tricked. Unwanted hairs... unwanted by whom? So here we are, reading about why the naked ape aspires to be naked-er and naked-er, and how s/he reached such goal. We read about methods, peer and society pressure. Is a hairy armpit a political statement? Is shaving a form of slavery to please the patriarchy or the ultimate level of western freedom? What are the responsibilities of the porn industry? Ask no more, fellow reader, and grab the book: it's a short and rewarding reading, about what appear to be a silly topic of everyday life. Really, one never stop learning.
3.5 This feels like a doctoral thesis blown out to book length. In reality, it’s academic research funded, so: same same but different. If you make it through the first couple chapters, it speeds up.
Overall: if you recognize that shaving / waxing or other hair removal is a bizarre social activity with no objective meaning, you’ll probably like it and be wowed at some point. Humans do some very crazy things in the name of aesthetics.
This book was very dry and very difficult to get through. I’m fascinated by the subject so, I didn’t give it up, but I had to take a lot of breaks. It’s written like a dissertation with all the field specific terminology which doesn’t make it very accessible to the every day reader or folks who aren’t in the author’s discipline. But, five years ago, I was looking for information on the history of body hair removal and had a very difficult time. The most I was able to find was that it boiled down to marketing and when magazines started showing women with no hair, the masses climbed on board. I loved the deeper dive this book allowed and it will be a great reference to pull snippets from for lessons if I ever find myself back in the classroom.
Fascinating, well-researched, and well-documented history on how Western/American society has been dealing with body hair, including current technologies.
Plucked: A History of Hair Removal by Rebecca M. Herzig is a highly recommended, fascinating look at the history of hair removal in the United States.
I am so glad a Rebecca Herzig didn't listen to her detractors and that she pursued writing this compelling history of hair removal. Plucked covers the various ways people have removed unwanted body hair, with the main focuse on the U. S. In the U. S. today the deliberate removal of body hair is a widespread practice that is taken for granted, but the now seemingly conventional and commonplace act of removing body hair to obtain smooth skin is not even a century old. At the same time forced hair removal has been called torture and abuse (like for the detainees at Guantánamo) throughout history. Plucked also covers the changing social and cultural aspects of hair removal.
Plucked is well researched and well written. While it is not a complete, thorough examination of every aspect of the history of hair removal, it is short, concise and entertaining enough to appeal to a wide audience as well as those who enjoy history texts.
Contents: Introduction: Necessary Suffering The Hairless Indian: Savagery and Civility before the Civil War “Chemicals of the Toilette”: From Homemade Remedies to a New Industrial Order Bearded Women and Dog-Faced Men: Darwin’s Great Denudation “Smooth, White, Velvety Skin”: X-Ray Salons and Social Mobility Glandular Trouble: Sex Hormones and Deviant Hair Growth Unshaven: “Arm-Pit Feminists” and Women’s Liberation “Cleaning the Basement”: Labor, Pornography, and Brazilian Waxing Magic Bullets: Laser Regulation and Elective Medicine “The Next Frontier”: Genetic Enhancement and the End of Hair Conclusion: We Are All Plucked Acknowledgments, Notes, Index
Disclosure: My Kindle edition was courtesy of New York University Press for review purposes.
Dr. Rebecca Herzig writes a detailed account of the history of hair removal in America, from first European contact with Indigenous peoples to modern day America. Ultimately the book shows how such a widespread, largely unquestioned practice as hair removal actually has a lot to say about American ideology, white supremacy, science, sex, gender, and capitalism. In terms of accessibility, this book is definitely more academic in style, with frequent usage of fancy synonyms, distant narration, and a rather theoretical conclusion. If you have a background in reading dense theory and academic essays, you should have no problem with this one. However, if you don’t have a background in academic literature, this may be tough to get through.
Pluncket, de Rebecca M. Herzig, é um livro muito interessante e peculiar (ou seria peloculiar?) que analisa a história da depilação, ou melhor, especialmente da remoção de pelos abaixo da linha do escalpo, como a autora coloca, incluindo aí barbas e bigosdes. É interessante que tanto a presença como a ausência de pelos corporais já foram associadas tanto à civilização como à barbárie. Assim entendemos como a cultura é dinâmica e seus valores positivos e negativos mudam o tempo todo. No livro, Herzig dá uma profunda atenção a essa história dentro da sociedade estadunidense, sem dar muito enfoque para a cultura da depilação em outras civilizações ao redor do globo. Ela fala sobre a higienzação do corpo, sobre os pelos como atração circense, sobre a remoção de pelos por escaldamento, corte, raspagem, cera, produtos químicos e, finalmente a depilação à laser tão popular nos nosso dias. Ela também traz uma análise da presença de pelos corporais realcionando-os com movimentos revolucionários de direitos civis, das mulheres e dos negros, por exemplo e a lisura do corpo com o conformismo neoliberal. Por fim, ela fala sobre o futuro da manipulação folicular em que manipulações no RNA podem produzir humanos sem pelos. Um livro interessante, curioso e esclarecedor sobre como os fios de queratina no nosso corpo influenciam o Ocidente, sua sociedade e sua cultura.
Though very academically worded, this book was a fascinating and memorable trip into the history of hair removal in America, which yields some very interesting facts. For instance, I never knew that not long after the discovery of radiation, there were several companies who made tons of money using radiation to remove unwanted body hair, which was a sensation at the time! The invention of the toilet and the private middle-class bathroom is also partly why shaving or removing most non-head body hair became A Thing.
Expecting a history of how the ancients removed their hair (you never see the Ancient Romans or Greeks with beards, do you?), I found that Plucked: A History of Hair Removal deals with that topic pretty neatly in the first few chapters. Historian Rebecca Herzig then moves on from the mundane of how body hair was removed until modern times (waxing, tweezing, burning), to how and why it has been removed for the past hundred years or so.
The ancients have nothing on us moderns for hair removal methods. Herzig describes early 20th century x-ray treatments for removing hair from the face, a painful and largely unregulated procedure. Radiation turned out to be a less than optimal solution to body hair, but as the century and science progressed, hormone therapy became the next craze in exfoliation. As fashions in clothing and hairlessness changed, laser treatment (also painful and sometimes unsafe) emerged. As the 21st century dawned, Brazilian waxing became as common as tattoos and another painful beauty routine was introduced.
Herzig discusses attitudes, science, advertising, the money angle (doctors found that specializing in laser procedure was more lucrative and easier than family practice, for instance). She doesn't ignore men -- although they have only recently begun tending to body hair other than facial in recent years, it's become almost a given that men will do some "manscaping."
Plucked is an academic look at hair removal, but it's entirely readable and fascinating for a general reader. Plenty to ponder as you tweeze your brows or undergo the agony of a bikini wax.
The subtitle of this book lied to me. I picked it up for research into hair removal practices of the ancient world. The book starts with the 1700s. Not a word on the ancients.
So it's not actually a history. Not only because of the solely modern scope (1700s - on is considered Modern History in history-land), but because there is an emphasis on analyzing the social significance of hair (or lack thereof) rather than illuminating the mechanics of removal. And yet there is not enough follow-through on the analysis to be satisfying. The work hovers on the brink of making some intriguing connections between hair and Imperialism, paternalism, and sexism, and yet never actually steps over the edge and commits.
This all made it a frustrating read for me. But it's probably a very good book taken for what it is, so I'm unsure how to "rate" it. Hence I'm leaving that bit blank.
This is a heavy look into the science and history of hair removal — from shaving as punishment in Guantanamo Bay to getting routine Brazilian waxes. We get to see the techniques for hair removal, the types of people throughout history who have cared about removing their hair, and what people assume about people who don’t tame their hair, like those reckless young women who don’t shave their armpits (*waves*). This is the most science-y one here, and it’s probably the best if you’re just wanting one book about hair.
I came to this book curious about leg shaving. I have always thought that it probably wasn't something that was done until relatively recently. Technically that's correct. It wasn't really possible to shave legs until the invention of the safety razor and until it caught on as a good hair removal device for women. But prior to this leg hair removal was fairly common in lots of different cultures.
Plucked doesn't really look at anywhere but the U.S. (intentionally) and while I sort of wish I had gotten a little more of an anthropological lens on hair removal, this was a fascinating deep dive into how hair has been removed through the centuries, how hair removal has been viewed, and the various economic, political, and cultural ideas that have driven it.
Herzig covers everything from razors to depilatories to mass meat production to x-rays and everything in between. She's academic, but it doesn't get in the way of making this text readable for the average reader. There aren't footnotes and the endnotes aren't intrusive, but it's clearly well researched. All in all an odd, but interesting read.
I knew this would be interesting but it covered more than I expected. Thought-provoking, well researched, and presented with care.
“Why would the simple cessation of shaving be described, on the one hand, as a "titillating" diversion from more serious feminist concerns and, on the other, as dangerous political extremism, a sign of opposition to men, marriage, and motherhood? How did body hair come to be such a potent, conflicted symbol of women's political consciousness?”
“the rise of hair removal over the last century could be said to reflect broader sea changes in American social and economic life: the convergence of shifting gender roles, immigration patterns, labor practices, manufacturing processes, domestic ar-rangements, media flows, racial prejudices, military endeavors, scientific discoveries, and commercial innovations. Over time, hairlessness, once perceived as a characteristic "deficiency" of the continent's indigenous peoples, became normalized— a persistent standard of health, beauty, cleanliness, and desirability.”
The content was pretty interesting. I enjoyed the cultural and economic context that Herzig created. I thought the writing was a bit weak, though. I particularly noticed that the organization of ideas didn’t have a very clear flow to it on a paragraph level or on a chapter level. It was annoying, especially in a book that used relatively dense academic vocabulary and sentence structure - I guess I’m accepting of either dense writing or poor flow, but I don’t like both together, especially in something I’m reading for fun. I wish it was a bit better because I agree with the author that the questions she raises, like what is necessary or serious and what elective or frivolous, and how do personal and cultural pressures interact to create trends, are really interesting! But I just didn’t feel by the end of the book that I had explored them more deeply than I had by the end of the introduction.
Looking for a book on body hair, I was eager to dive into this, and there are indeed some important points and histories conveyed in this book. The 3 stars refer more to wanting to hear the author’s voice and conclusions throughout, a la a topic sentence or overarching points in the intro. There are specific conclusions in the conclusion, but I would have enjoyed this book more if each chapter told a part of that or built up to it. Overall, definitely worth a read. I particular appreciate Chapter 6 Unshaven on shaving and 1970s feminism, Chapter 7 Cleaning the Basement in the rise of the full removal of pubic and anal hair, and the Conclusion, where we hear Herzig’s thoughts more clearly (and interesting ones they are...just wish there were more...).
Learning that x-rays were used as hair removal devices was one of my biggest takeaways from this book. It's an interesting look at the history of body hair and its removal. I found it doubly ironic that I had to pluck my first facial hairs while reading this book (typically don't care about it, but these two were diving into my mouth and it was super annoying). So, thanks for hte level of irony. I don't know that I would recommend it, but it is an interesting enough read.
I learned of this book through the podcast Dressed: A History of Fashion, which itself is worth listening to!
While not exactly what I was looking for, an well researched look at the technologies of hair removal and how the public, manufacturer and medical opinions on body and facial hair have changed in America since the early days of the country. I was looking for a broader, and longer look at the hair removal, how different cultures through time had viewed it and the changing fashions in hair removal. This was also more scholarly that I expected but certainly contained a wealth of information. The last half of the book was better than the first.
This wasn't what I was expecting and I was disappointed. Too much about Brazilian waxing and not enough about how ordinary women cope. And a photo of an oil refinery for the story on waxing? I have spent a lot of my life using Nair, facial wax, facial hair bleach, electrolysis, and am still at it. Good thing about aging -- the facial, leg, underarm hair is white or mostly gone. (Or my eyesight is gone and I can't see it.) (The best thing about aging is menopause -- no more periods.) I am glad I didn't buy this book but got it on ILL. Too many footnotes and not enough common sense.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. I should’ve known that the history of hair depilation, like everything else, would come down to white supremacy and the patriarchy. Everything always does. But I still felt a little blindsided. However, it was fascinating.
And having read the acknowledgments, where the author talks about how much pushback she got about this topic, I am indignant on her behalf. This book is necessary and important. And historians who claim otherwise, should spend some time rooting out the misogyny inherent in that perspective.
This was a truly fascinating book! What a neat little history! The moral of the story is Americans suck and women get the shot end of the stick as is often the case in history...but I thought it was an interesting subject and it was very well-researched. Not very long either. The narrative was a bit dry which took away some of the readability for me as I wasn't as engaged as I was with other nonfiction books. But to be fair I don't read much of these.
Somewhat to my surprise, I found this book really interesting. I knew nothing of the history of hair removal or how opinions differed over time. The perils of even some recent methods of hair removal were surprising to me. I was really into this book... until the conclusion chapter. There, the author lost me by leaping into the realms of philosophy and political theory. Maybe with more explanation I would have understood her concluding theories, but as it was I was left thinking, "huh?"
i wish i would’ve loved it more. the first chapter took me back. it wasn’t what i expected and it made me afraid of where the rest of the book would go. the language used in the first chapter vs last chapter felt very different - not saying this was a bad thing. the first chapter was more scientific and a little boring but the book started picking up half way through. i will try to read the second half more closely because i do think the book has the potential to be a 4 stars text.
This book l read in a very short period of time, as l found it really interesting.l was referred to read this book from a magazine article.l won't spoil the book for you, but if you are interested in the history, origins, and customs of how these habits originate, l think you will enjoy this book.lt may give you pause to consider why you were brought up to remove your body hair, whether you are a man or woman.