Abstract
Hair tells a story. This phrase was repeated again and again in Dr. Margo Maine's new book, Hair Tells a Story: Hers, Yours, and Ours. Maine effectively and compassionately communicates the fundamental importance of hair in the lives of women, and the tremendous emotional and financial cost of pursuing and maintaining hair that society deems acceptable for women's age, race, and gender identity. When the field discusses body image, we often are referring to attitudes toward body weight and shape; I was humbled to realize that I—and much of the rest of this field—had neglected this enormous component of women's experiences of their bodies in my own conceptualization of body image for so long.
Fans of Maine's other work (e.g., Body Wars: Making Peace With Women's Bodies) will enjoy her familiar expert braiding of lived experience, powerful quotes, and critical reflection to paint a holistic picture of the significance of women's hair in their relationships and embodied experiences. Chapter by chapter, Maine highlights the different stories that women's hair tells—from bonding rituals with the important women in our lives to color changes signifying our coming out to dramatic haircuts following breakups and life changes. The book also covers the nuanced experiences of hair loss and going gray, and the creative ways that women embrace and disguise these changes. She articulates the backlash women face for making hair decisions that are incompatible with societal norms for women's hair—and the liberation that can come from choosing to defy gendered hair expectations.
Two chapters of the book focus specifically on the enormous pressures Black women face to have and maintain hair that is regarded as acceptable in a White supremacist culture and tracing the historical roots of these expectations. Maine explains the risks and costs of Black women face when maintaining their hair, whether it is natural or treated. She highlights the contributions of Black women working to normalize and glorify natural black hair. Despite this explicit emphasis on Black women's hair, there were times when I wished that the book had amplified the voices and perspectives of more people of color. Further, the language we use to discuss women's hair is important, and there were times when I wondered whether specific language surrounding Black women's hair was appropriate.
Overall, Maine's new book starts an important conversation about an essential element of women's experiences of their bodies that has heretofore gone underexamined. As I was reading this book, I could not help but reflect on my own hair narrative—the ways that haircuts and dye jobs have punctuated the equilibrium of my life and served as a means of externalizing the internal changes happening inside of me at the time. Maine leaves readers with exercises to consider the role of hair in our own lives; however, readers will likely find themselves thinking about these experiences as they read through the pages. Hair does tell a story, for all of us. Maine's book encourages us to understand our own hair narrative and the narratives of women around us.
