I dyed my hair pink, and men won’t stop cat-calling me
When I first dyed my hair pink, it was truly liberating. My parents were very conservative in their ideas of how one was meant to express oneself. Having colored hair, too many piercings, or tattoos was openly frowned upon in our household. So when I entered college and began to revel in my own independence, dying my hair my favorite color felt like the logical next step. It felt like a true revelation in my own self-expression. I struggled with femininity and had only recently begun embracing the color pink and girlish things, but this just felt right. It led to a sort of rebrand in my own identity, and I loved it.
What I had not been expecting was the constant masculine energy that would be thrust my way in direct response to this change. Men began to feel the need to approach me and swoon over this change in my appearance. I was asked questions like, “Why the pink?” or “What made you do that?” as if it was shocking that a woman would think to do anything of the sort. Usually, these questions were accompanied by ominous smiles and unsettling looks to accentuate the questioning. Sometimes, they abstained from approaching me at all, settling for screaming from their truck window instead.
With this newfound attention to a specific aspect of my appearance, I began to ponder why this was happening. Yes, of course, I recognize that having an unconventional hair color is going to garner attention, but it was not the compliments or stares that bothered me, but rather the essence of them. Men grovel over the newest “manic pixie dream girl” they encounter on their screen to the point where any eccentricity they encounter from a woman truly stuns them. This archetype is so deeply rooted in the male gaze that they can not fathom a woman behaving away from the norm for anyone else but men.
The “manic pixie dream girl” trope was coined by film critic Nathan Rabin in 2007 in direct response to Kristen Dunst’s role in Elizabethtown (2005). He described this character as someone who “exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures.” Using the objectification of women to frame the narrative surrounding men, rather than building them to be complex companions to their male counterparts. Most consistent in coming-of-age films, when we litter young men’s screens with these quirky portrayals of women as a means to “fix” or “further” men’s lives, we are negating the impact this can have on their psyche. Turning women into one-dimensional caricatures where their entire being is centered around their fun hair or unconventional sense of style, we are teaching men that this is the standard. Obviously, there are examples of well-constructed, complex, whimsical women. But men seem to gravitate towards these characters who serve to romanticize the issues they have while being spontaneous and mysterious.
My biggest issue with the manic pixie dream girl is the crowd it attracts. There is an apparent type who is attracted not only to this paradigm but also feels the need to project it onto women they deem to fit the mold. Prodding and prying at the women, they believe, protrude these facets. Committing the same sin as those who support the manic pixie dream girl type by diminishing a woman to a singular physical trait.
So, a tip to men who see a woman with colored hair, you can probably just approach them and tell them you like it, instead of furthering this objectification of women to their surface-level qualities.
Strike Out,
Emma Chambers, Writer
