The Long and the Short of it

Once upon a time, the length of a woman’s hair was more than just a personal preference. It was a social semaphore, a moral litmus test, and even a weapon in the arsenal of femininity. Now, though, it seems that a woman's hair length serves as a crude calendar – the shorter it gets, the more years she's been marking off. This curious phenomenon of follicular reduction, where hair shortens as life lengthens, isn't merely a passing style trend. It's cultural, psychological, and, dare I say it, political.

Let's start with the obvious. The classic image of the youthful woman, long hair flowing down her back, is still deeply embedded in our collective psyche. Literature, art, and film have all reinforced the notion that luxuriant locks signify vitality, fertility, and allure. Hair in its unfettered, Rapunzel-esque glory speaks to a kind of rebellion against time. But once a woman hits a certain age, society seems to expect her to engage in some sort of ceremonial shearing – as if shorter hair equals maturity and respectability, while longer hair remains the province of dreamers, deviants, and the eternally late to parent/teacher meetings.

But why? The answer lies somewhere between practicality and patriarchy. There's a whispering voice of so-called common sense that suggests shorter hair is easier to manage for women of a certain age. It requires less maintenance, less time in front of the mirror, and less patience with the inevitable grey. It's as though women, having spent their youth keeping up appearances, are now expected to choose functionality over frivolity. It’s a bit like swapping your stilettos for sensible loafers – only it’s happening on your head.

Then there's the matter of power. Historically, a woman cutting her hair has often symbolised a rejection of societal expectations. Think of Joan of Arc, shorn of her femininity to take up arms. Or flappers in the 1920s, their bobs a defiant snip at Victorian restraint. Yet, paradoxically, modern older women are often pressured to crop their hair as a concession to those very same societal expectations – expectations that tell them they're past their prime and ought to stop trying to steal the spotlight from the younger generation. (Although let’s be honest – if the younger generation really cared about the spotlight, they’d spend less time squinting at their phones.)

But there's a deeper, more insidious undertone to all of this. As women age, they are often told, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, to shrink themselves. Not just their hair, but their presence, their voice, their desires. Short hair becomes a metaphor for this societal shrinking act. It says, "I'm not here to disrupt. I'm practical, I'm sensible, and I'm not trying to compete with the ingenues anymore." Basically, it’s the hair equivalent of wearing beige.

Of course, there are exceptions. Some older women grow their hair long as a statement of defiance, a refusal to let society dictate their choices. Others, like the iconic Dame Judi Dench or Helen Mirren, embrace the crop and somehow manage to turn it into a crown. But the fact that these exceptions are notable speaks volumes about the rule. Besides, if you’re going to go short, you might as well do it with a wink and a bit of swagger. After all, nothing says “I’m still fabulous” quite like a perfectly tousled pixie cut paired with a devil-may-care grin.

Ultimately, the length of a woman's hair should be nothing more than a matter of personal preference. Yet it remains laden with meaning, a silent dialogue between the individual and society. Long hair shouldn't be the sole preserve of youth, nor should short hair be an inevitability of age. In a truly liberated society, a woman of seventy should feel just as free to sport waist-length tresses as a woman of seventeen. Until then, let's at least acknowledge the unspoken pressures at play and give women of all ages the freedom to wear their hair however they damn well please – whether it's a pixie cut, a bob, or a mane that would make Rapunzel herself green with envy. And let’s remember: hair grows back, but regret over a bad haircut lasts forever.

Now, long hair on an ageing, balding man is another issue......