The bald truth about why I shaved my head

Why is our idea of how a woman should look so inherently tied to the preferred feminine? asks the newly-shorn Geraldine Walsh.

I WAS 15 when I dyed my hair midnight blue, quickly followed by dashing purple. I looked more like a unicorn going through a semi goth phase than the sophisticated 18-year-old I was attempting to copy. I’ve never been nervous or shy about experimenting with my hair. Having gone from a long mane that was routinely crimped on a Saturday night to a short pixie cut which looked more boyish than elfin, I dared to be different. I enjoyed the challenge of finding a style that suited my personality, whether it was a faux hawk or a lopsided bob.