Commonly visited public locations often end up inciting fear of harassment for women. Places that should feel safe, end up being places I feel like I need to blend in as much as possible. Even by taking measures to do so, I am unable to run simple errands without the unwanted male gaze and catcalls from strangers. Changing my hair color has maintained to be a way to remain anonymous to those who know me or even those who would recognize me on my weekly errands. It is a means of armor and protection. By taking photographs of myself wrapped in hair in these “unsafe” locations, I am reclaiming these spaces for myself, while my identity and body are protected through my armor of hair.
Get Out of My Hair addresses the aftermath of trauma in relation to safety in everyday life as a woman. As human beings, hair holds so much of our identity and memory. It is one of the only parts of our bodies that is grown by us and cared for by us, but remains “dead.” It grows from our living bodies, and holds our DNA, but we cannot feel it, or control it with our minds as we can with other parts of our bodies. Hair is the only object that we carry with us through every single moment of every last day. It grows in places that we cannot see with our eyes, therefore it holds memory that doesn’t even exist in our own brains.
