Three weeks ago, I had the cathartic experience of shaving my head. I wish I could say I wanted to showcase my innate femininity; feel like an empowered bad-ass and cut off all my hair in the name of “fuck the patriarchy!” But truthfully, with this haircut, I feel like an imposter; a fraud, as it wasn’t my decision and I am left with the consequences of other people’s actions. Three weeks ago, I didn’t just lose my hair. I lost my ability to control a situation and got lost in the mix of manipulation and exploitation.
As painfully impossible as it is to admit that I wore rose-colored glasses, I feel as though it is my duty to share my story of how, and why I shaved my head.
I am a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed young woman who has dreams of making money doing the thing I love most; being creative. I get an email about a booking asking for models for a ‘hair event’. $2500 for a cut/style and $3500 for a shaved head. I’m one to take a jump at exciting adventures with all expenses paid in Tampa, so I reach out to my agent and book myself for the cut/style, especially for $2500! I mean, hair grows back and I am a recovering academic who is broke…as fuck.
I get to Tampa around 9pm and I’m rather pumped about it. I love traveling and exploring new places. There’s something I enjoy about not knowing where the hell I am and just figuring it out as I go. I meet up with another model at the airport to wait for someone to come pick us up. Driving the car was a girl named Addie and in the passenger seat was a dude named Josh. Both seemed to be pretty kind and welcoming, cracking jokes about how confusing the airport terminal is. We ask a bit about what we were to expect for tomorrow and Josh said, “We can get to details later, but we’ll have someone cutting your hair and taking transformation photoshoots for an e-magazine that will be coming out in 2022.” We didn’t get much more information about it after that. Josh made a comment that he didn’t have any type of schedule for who would go first, so I volunteered. I figured if I went first, I could spend the first couple of hours at the shoot and have the maximum amount of time to explore Tampa.
We made a stop at the store to grab some things and then headed off to the Airbnb where one of us would be staying. The Airbnb was cozy, eccentric, and beautiful. Three bedroom, one bath, with a cute little kitchen overlooking a living room with a flat screen playing all the "Top 100 Hits." I made myself at home and queued up some music that was a little more my taste. A couple hours later, I was driven to a separate hotel where I would be staying with two other models.
My call time the next morning was 11am, but I was so nervous and excited that I'd been ready an hour ahead of time. Josh gives me a call and asks if I could be ready earlier, as he had a model he recruited locally back out of the photoshoot. He told me that the model called her husband to ask permission to cut her hair. Husband wouldn't go for it. I thought, “If I were married, I wouldn’t let my husband tell me how to wear my hair.” With that thought in mind, I felt empowered to be able to make my own decisions with my hair and I knew that it would be a change, but not like I was expecting.
The photoshoot was held at another Airbnb a few minutes away from the hotel where I was staying. First, Josh gave me a tour around the house and, much to my surprise, there weren’t any other people there. I thought there would be a hairstylist, lighting crew, video crew; things that you would expect from a professional booking. I didn’t think anything of it because I am fairly new as a professional model and figured they were working within their budget. There were two bright lights set up on the left and right side shining blinding light on a blank, white wall. Two video cameras set up next to both of the lights and a table in the left-hand corner with 50+ hairstyling tools (clippers, scissors, gel, combs, brushes, etc.)
First, Josh interviews me on a video recording about my hair, “Are you nervous about the outcome?” “What is the shortest your hair has ever been?” “Have you ever dyed your hair?”
Then he asks, “Are you being held against your will or being forced into cutting your hair?” Of course, I said no. I thought that was a weird question, but I figured it was a precaution on their part, which I understood.
Then, he explains what he discussed with my agent, “Just so we’re clear. It’s $3,500 to volunteer to shave your head and $2,500 anything goes.”
I said, “Oooh, that’s not what was conveyed to us and the other models will not be expecting that.”
After a back and forth conversation about what was said to who and how. He turns off the camera and offers me a deal. He will give me a thousand dollars in cash right now, on top of the $2,500 I signed for, if I volunteer to shave my head.
I’m honestly confused at this point. I didn’t know what to do or say. I’m sitting there thinking about the contract I signed, which stated that I would be sued for $7,000 if I break it. I didn’t sign up to shave my head, but I also didn’t want to take the $2,500 and have him shave my head anyway or end up with a botched cut.
So I said, “Fuck it. Just shave my head.”
He asks me what I want him to cut my hair with and I chose clippers. He cut my hair to a very short bowl cut that landed just below the top of my ears.
Then he says, “Let’s have some fun and do another hair cut. Should I go for something “wild” or “masculine”? Your choice.”
I chose, but I didn't really have a choice. He buzzed my head and I’m left with a half inch of hair. I looked in the mirror and I didn’t even know who I was, but I looked great with a buzzed cut. I didn’t realize how beautiful I was under all the hair I had. It was an eye-opening experience to see my natural beauty.
At that point, I thought we were done. I could finish the photoshoot and go my merry way and forget about how odd that experience was.
Josh says, “Oh no, we’re not done. We’re taking it alllllll off.”
“Like bald?”, I asked. This is where I really start freaking out, but I already caught myself in a weird situation and I don’t know how to say “fuck off” and I didn’t want them to treat me any type of way if I start being off-putting.
Shaving cream was rubbed all over my head while the video camera is still recording. What have I gotten myself into. I’m about to let this stranger shave my head completely bald. He get a razor and just starts cleaning the hair straight from my scalp. It felt fucking weird to be bald and it’s even weirder that I’m letting this dude video record himself putting a razor to my head.
I look in the mirror, I laugh and say, “I’m bald as FUCK. What the fuck.”
After that he makes me another offer, “I’ll give you $500 to shave your eyebrows off.”
I said, “Hell, no.”
“$700?”
“No.”
“$900? That’s my final offer.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Your loss.”, he says.
After shaving my head, Josh asks me if I’d be interested in staying a couple more days after the weekend because “they really like me” and want to “talk about my future.” He also offered to fly me back out to Tampa for another “photoshoot” at the end of the month and he’d pay me to be on the “crew.” Whatever that means.
I didn't realize how long this story was until I started typing away. This isn't even the half of it. If you've made it this far, thank you for reading and more will be posted soon. In the mean time, feel free to ask me any questions via email or through my instagram DM's. I am an open book.
Comments