Feminist Music Geek

Rihanna's new hairdo; image provided by New York Daily News

So, I’ve been tracking coverage of Rihanna’s new haircut (yes, it was considered news by many in the blogosphere). Last week, she updated her trademark edgy pixie cut with a shaved base. Perhaps people are so used to her short hair or the new cut looks fairly similar, but I haven’t noticed much of a hubbub. I guess because of the to-do over Kristen Stewart’s Joan Jett mullet, I was expecting more of a stir. Perhaps a homophobic panic. More specifically, I anticipated potential linkages made between the hair change and speculation over her dealings with ex-boyfriend Chris Brown, as last month they agreed to a court-ordered separation agreement following Brown’s much-reported assault against Rihanna last March.

However, most people seem to be pro to neutral with Rihanna’s haircut (Bossip is an exception). And I guess that’s good. I like the hairstyle. If she wanted to go bald, that’d be cool with me too. It’s so strange to think that she still once had a long, tumbling mane of hair, perhaps a hold-over from her beauty queen days as she transitioned into her current cultural role as pop star. I definitely prefer her with short hair; it maximizes her features, suits the dark robotic edge of her synth pop, and queers her in some interesting ways. Perhaps it gets us a little closer to style icon Debbi from Repo Man.

Rihanna with long hair, back in October 2007; image courtesy of People

But I’m also curious as to the racial dimensions of Rihanna’s haircut, and what the shave may mean. I admittedly don’t know much about hair and women of color, other than an awareness that hair is both a source of contention and a space for play, particularly for women of African descent. Indeed, the Barbadan pop star’s decision to shave her head is culturally very different from, say, Tilda Swinton, requesting a buzz job. Some detractors of Rihanna’s new ‘do may perhaps read the shortening, straightening, sculpting, and now, buzzing of her hair as a disavowal of her “natural” hair. They may read pop singer Cassie’s half-shaved look or model Amber Rose’s bleached buzz cut similarly.

Of course, subscribing to this reading blindsides the multicultural aspects of this discussion. Rihanna is from Barbados, a Caribbean island with integrated African, Middle Eastern, and European communities. Within those communities exist several more ethnically distinct cultural origins. Thus, while Rihanna’s accent marks her as Barbadan, what that identity is in terms of racial and ethnic categories is far more difficult to extract. Furthermore, Cassie is of African American, Filipino, West Indian, and Mexican heritage. Amber Rose is of Italian and Cape Verdian descent (at least that’s what Wikipedia told me). So they both exist within and outside of African American identities.

I admit I don’t have answers. And, as a white woman, it’s easy for me to say “Rihanna shaved her head — cool,” which is not my intention. Instead, I’m submitting this post as a conversation-starter, a point of entry to talk and think more critically about the dimensions of racial, ethnic, and gender identities. It may seem like “just hair,” but its supposed obviousness and frivolousness demands more critical inquiry.