An amazing thing happened in the United States in 1920. The Land of Liberty finally enfranchised the majority of its adult population. The 19th Amendment to the US Constitution gave women the right to vote – something they'd been fighting for since the nation was founded. Feminists of both genders rejoiced: now, at least, women would have the political clout to agitate for real civil rights, such as the right to control their own financial lives, the right to serve on juries, and a claim to equal pay for equal work. The 20th Century was finally underway in terms of political and social progress.

Detractors, of course, such as the Women's Anti-Suffrage League, predicted the end of civilisation as they knew it. After all, voting women would only double the male vote – 85% of adult women were either married or widowed. Besides, women shouldn't be involved in politics. It was against nature. Telling nature what to do is an old human trait.

The detractors were right about one thing: life would never be the same. Women were tired of demonstrating, over and over, that they could be just as good as men at athletics, exploration, science, mathematics, business, arts, journalism, photography, etc, etc, etc. In short, they could do anything men could do, except write their names in the snow. Armed with the vote, many women in the US and other parts of Western Civilisation decided to stop acting like a minority group and take back their own identities. They decided not to let men define their vices, virtues, and above all, appearance.

Among other things, they decided to cut their hair. Surprisingly, civilisation failed to collapse. But North American women and their European sisters gave the world a new kind of person: the Flapper.

The Flapper and the De-Sexualisation of Female Identity

For centuries, European and European-American women had been commended for their ability to grow hair. Long hair was a woman's 'crowning glory'. Among North Americans, only the Crow tribe was noted for its long-haired men. The rest of the male population seemed to agree with the Apostle Paul, who famously commented that if a man had long hair, it was 'a shame to him¹'.

Somehow, long hair on women was sexualised. Again, Paul advised women to cover their hair in church, 'because of the angels²'. No one has ever been sure why he said this, but some have taken the remark to mean that even angels got unduly excited about long, sexy hair. Flappers decided to do something to dampen the ardour of men and angels. They invented the bob.

Take a look at these fetching 'Gibson girls' from the 1900s. Yes, Charles Dana Gibson, the Vargas of his day³, is being ironic with the title 'The Weaker Sex'. Those young ladies are tormenting a very tiny man with a hatpin. But consider this: the drawing points to intergender tension, and the women are seen as sexy. And every one of them has a luxurious head of hair.

Now, observe the practicality of Amelia Earhart's bobbed hair. Of course this woman wins medals: there's no nonsense about her.

US women called it a 'bob'. In the UK, it was 'shingled'. In front, you could wear 'bangs' or a 'fringe', or, as the Germans called it, a 'Pony'. This had nothing to do with horses, no matter how much the naysayers mocked. Hair bobbing took the world by storm: it even spread to exotic Romania. Note that people found bobbed hair incongruous with native costume.

Hair bobbing was controversial and scandal-arousing. Consider Celia Cooney, the Bobbed-Haired Bandit. Celia and her husband-accomplice knocked over small businesses in New York City in 1924. What alarmed and fascinated people was not the fact of the crimes themselves, but that they were being perpetrated by an armed female, one with bobbed hair, no less. And she was driving the car! The newspapers reported on her sealskin coat and accessories.

Short, practical hair was a step in the direction of de-sexualising – and by extension, de-objectifying – the public image of women. But, as the Bobbed Hair Bandit proved, women were even more dangerous now that they had short hair. Charles Dana Gibson would not have approved.

Re-Sexualising the Liberated Female

Of course, the bob did not stay unsexy for long. In addition to telling nature what to do, humans like to put the innuendo into almost anything, and short hair was no exception. How do you make short hair sexier? You add a marcel wave. Those alligator clips may look painful, but the result was alluring in the 1920s. No longer were women jealous of horses. They had beautiful bobs.

Self-assured beauties like Barbara Stanwyck flaunted their short hair, short skirts, and aggressive sexuality. Yes, they smoked, drank, cursed as much as the film censors would allow, and drove automobiles. And not just those wussy electric ones the Ford Company wanted to peddle to the 'little lady'. These women had come a long way, baby – and still had plenty of miles to go.

Flapper-era sexuality became even more aggressive in the stage and film performances of Mae West. The redoubtable man-eater's most famous line – 'Is that a pistol in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?' – would not have been possible in 1910, nor in 1940. It was the break-out era, that amazing decade-and-a-bit between the passage of the 19th Amendment and the anti-feminist backlash of the censoring Hayes Office, that made Mae West possible. The Flapper and her sisters made the most of it, bobbed hair and all.

So, if you happen to find a few old alligator hairclips in granny's vanity drawer, stop and ask: you might hear a story even grandpa doesn't know.

For Further Research

To admire a bit of Mae West, watch this trailer for My Little Chickadee.

Can you stand silent movies? Immerse yourself in the cutting-edge social satire and hilarious hi-jinks of The Flapper. It packed them in back in 1920.