What Our Views on Pubic Hair Reveal About Our Attitudes Toward Sexuality

Throughout history, pubic hair has been linked to sexuality and beauty in many cultures. Ancient Romans, such as those in Pompeii, associated hairy genitals with warmth and stimulation, while the Tiv people of Nigeria and the Kwoma people of New Guinea viewed thick pubic hair as a sign of female beauty. Literary examples, like Shakespeare’s Venus and Adonis and the 18th-century erotic novel Fanny Hill, also celebrated pubic hair as an attractive feature. This association stems from the biological link between pubic hair, sex hormones like testosterone and estrogen, and libido. The article notes that in cultures with open attitudes toward sexuality, pubic hair was often considered sexy simply because it signaled sexual maturity and health.

In 18th-century England and Scotland, aristocrats developed an unusual fascination with pubic hair. They collected and preserved locks of pubic hair as romantic keepsakes, often storing them in lockets or hats. King Charles II took this trend further by commissioning wigs made from his mistresses’ pubic hair, adding new strands as his conquests grew. This practice reflected a broader cultural preoccupation with sexual conquests and the symbolic power of body hair as a personal and intimate souvenir. The article highlights this as an extreme example of how pubic hair was intertwined with social status and sexual history.

Even scientists studying pubic hair can struggle with its emotional and cultural weight. The author recounts an unsettling experience as a graduate student at Oxford, where a biology professor abruptly placed his head in her lap during a discussion about pubic hair, revealing discomfort with the topic. This incident underscored how pubic hair blurs the line between objective science and personal, even taboo, associations. The author avoided public discussions of the subject for decades, storing research in a folder labeled Personal, illustrating how deeply ingrained societal taboos can influence even academic discourse.

In European history, particularly around the French Revolution, pubic hair became tied to moral decay and decadence. Marie Antoinette faced propaganda campaigns that used pornographic imagery to depict her in acts of vulgarity, often emphasizing her pubic hair as a symbol of her supposed wantonness. This contrasted with the era’s ideals of refined beauty and restraint. Similarly, Enlightenment thinkers like Denis Diderot associated pubic hair with shame and the Fall in the Garden of Eden, viewing bald genitals as pure and original, untouched by sin or lust. This perspective framed pubic hair removal as a way to reclaim innocence.

Japan’s relationship with pubic hair reflects a unique cultural paradox. While Shinto traditions historically celebrated genitalia in their natural, hairy state, a 1907 law banned the depiction of obscene materials, which later included pubic hair even after freedom of speech was established in 1947. Anthropologist Anne Allison notes that genital hair in visual media became legally defined as obscene, despite widespread depictions of nudity in other contexts. This law created a bizarre contradiction where naked bodies were acceptable in media, but pubic hair was not, illustrating how deeply ingrained taboos can shape legal and artistic norms.

North American media often reflects contradictory attitudes toward pubic hair. For example, the 2016 animated film Sausage Party avoided an NC-17 rating by removing pubic hair from the pita bread character’s scrotum, despite depicting graphic sexual acts. This suggests that while explicit sexual content may be tolerated, the depiction of pubic hair remains taboo. The article argues that in cultures promoting open sexuality, pubic hair is paradoxically the one thing that must remain private, highlighting the tension between public acceptance of sexuality and the discomfort surrounding its most intimate details.

In some religious traditions, pubic hair removal is linked to spiritual purity and the pursuit of a fitra (a state of natural purity). Ancient Egyptian priests and Levite initiates removed all body hair, including pubic hair, as part of their rituals. Islamic traditions also emphasize pubic hair removal, with historical recipes for depilation creams dating back to at least the ninth century. Modern practices include using a paste of sugar, water, and lemon juice for hair removal, a method that is both practical and culturally significant. These traditions reflect a belief that removing pubic hair can symbolically cleanse one’s sexual nature.

Western art has historically avoided depicting pubic hair, often rendering genitals in shadow or omitting them entirely due to taboos. However, some exceptions exist. An early 16th-century engraving by German artist Barthel Beham shows a woman in a bathhouse with visible pubic hair and hair-plucking tools nearby, suggesting an interest in grooming practices. Art historian Johannes Endres theorized that Enlightenment-era artists used bald vulvas as a philosophical statement, contrasting them with fur-covered penises to evoke ideas of purity and original sin. This reflects how pubic hair in art can carry layered symbolic meanings beyond mere aesthetics.

Indigenous Canadian writer Drew Hayden Taylor offers a counterpoint to Western views of pubic hair, suggesting that natural pubic hair remains prevalent among Indigenous Peoples because they never left the Garden of Eden. This perspective frames natural body hair as a sign of uncorrupted sexuality and connection to nature. The article highlights how cultural narratives about pubic hair vary widely, with some societies celebrating it as a natural and beautiful feature, while others associate it with shame or sin. These diverse attitudes reveal the deep psychological and cultural significance of pubic hair in human societies.