Butch hair

Had a lovely day today,

brunch with some good friends,

and dinner with some more.

Two wonderful meals,

prepared lovingly,

by someone else.

Since, I was out being social,

I missed the Heritage Classic,

an outdoor hockey game,

between two Canadian teams.

This year my Habs were playing,

The Calgary Flames,

I’m glad I didn’t watch,

The Habs lost 4-0,

obviously,

got their butts handed to them.

I’ll admit it,

I’m shallow that way,

I like my team to win.

Also, I’m a bit of a bad loser,

in my personal life,

I mean, 

recently a woman asked me,

if I was competitive,

I replied “not really, I just like to win”.

I’m thinking it’s an only child thing:-)

I’m trying to read James Baldwin’s,

Giovanni’s Room,

for the GLBTQ Challenge,

it is of course masterfully written,

it’s Baldwin,

but, it’s another dark book.

February has been dark book month.

I’m taking a break.

So, tonight,

I thought,

I would do an installment,

of,

The Elements of Butch Style.

Because,

I feel good and it makes me happy.

Hair, butch hair.

One of the few things,

I am vain about is,

my hair.

It used to be,

espresso brown,

dark, very dark,

almost black.

In the last few years,

it has lightened,

through no chemical help,

perish the thought, no self respecting butch, in my opinion, would dye their hair.

It has lightened on it own,

and it isn’t sun bleached,

never an abundance of sunshine,

in the Great White North,

it has lightened because some snow,

has appeared on the roof top,

it is,

slowly ,

turning gray.

Never,

have I considered colouring it,

but,

I do wonder what it will look like,

when it’s Silver.

Maybe I’ll become, the silver bookish butch, hum, nice sound to that.

I am proud to say,

I have never had a mullet.

I will never live the embarasement,

of,

a lover discovering a picture,

of a 1980’s mullet,

there are a few,

of an ill-advised perm,

but,

not many,

and I was sixteen,

after all:-)

Some butches,

are very attached to their hair product,

that’s cool, I don’t judge.

But,

not me,

no gel, no mouse,

the natural look.

I have it cut every 4 or 5 weeks,

so it’s always perfect,

the first week it’s crisp and boyish,

the fifth it’s shaggy,

in between,

just right.

Goldilocks and the 3 Bears, anyone?

In reality,

my hair is not butch,

in an obvious way,

no buzz cut, no droppy fringe.

What is butch about it,

is it’s unaffected air,

takes work to acheive that,

my friends,

tons of types of shampoo,

and conditionner,

nourishing and free drying.

Just long enough for a woman,

to run her fingers through it and say,

“It’s so soft”,

I live for those moments **sigh**

and short enough for her not to confuse,

me with the femmes,

but,

usually the boots and flannel,

establish that.

So, butch hair?

Not too long, not too short,

soft and unaffected.

Works for me.

How do you like your butch to wear her hair?

Or do you even care?

Later girls,

BB

Published by

Bookish Butch

I am a bookish butch in my very early fifties. I live in Montréal and always have. I used to run a small used bookstore. Reading keeps me sane. My latest jiggie is photography, book project in the works, living the dream

9 thoughts on “Butch hair”

  1. See? What did I tell you, about Giovanni’s Room? Please please please, yes, take a break.

    My butch cuts her hair every two weeks, herself. I find that to be be pretty damn butchly, the determination to be so self-sufficient… It’s quite attractive to me. And reflecting on that, I just realized that my last ex always cut her her own hair too. Huh.

    I used to cut my own hair, but I was a punk so this meant mostly buzzing all the parts that weren’t long and/or dyed purple. Now it’s long and I mostly just leave it alone. Sometimes I miss the way it felt when it was short, the lack of weight and the breeze on my scalp.

    I laughed at your comment regarding butches dyeing their hair: Have you never seen the otherwise-dapper dykes sporting terrible bleached crew cuts? Maybe that’s a West Coast thing… But oh, it’s just bad style and yet so prevalent. I realize how shallow that makes me sound, but that’s the truth of it: Butches, I don’t care if you dye it, but I simply can’t crush out on you if it’s bleached.

  2. I forgot about the bleached types:-) Not too many out here. Cuts her own huh? Wow, that is impressive!!I’m way to myopic for that.
    You’re not shallow you know what you like:-) Who knows maybe when my hair is all gray, I will dye it but, I doubt it.

  3. I like it short. All the more to tickle the tips of my fingers with.

    One of the most gorgeous butch haircuts I’ve ever seen was a close-cut cap of naturally silvered black hair, something like a pixie cut but tuff-looking at the same time, if that makes sense. Okay, the fact that she stopped her machine and took her helmet off to compliment me on my dogs and smile at me might also have had something to do with the appeal.

  4. Ooooh yes. Silver most definitely gets my vote too.
    I have a silly theory that every white hair is a merit badge of sorts for some sliver of wisdom, a snippet of maturity or the survival of a hairy experience (sorry can’t resist a bad pun). Of course, there are exceptions to every generalization. My theory may simply be a way to reconcile what I see happening in my own mirror.
    Still – I do think it a shame to hide nature’s rewards.
    And yes, I find silver attractive. On others, that is. On myself, I’m not so sure.

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