ELIZABETH DAY: Why, at the age of 43, I finally gave up trying to maintain THIS long, glossy barnet. I've found a cut that instantly makes my hair thicker and needs hardly any styling

Until I was 18, my mother cut my hair in a bob. She did a terrific job and she always told me I suited shorter hair.But then when I was 19 and on a gap year in Cape Town, South Africa, I went to a stylist clutching a picture of Natalie Imbruglia from the Torn video and he glanced at it sceptically before giving me a brutal cut. I left the salon looking like one of my games teachers from school.It took years to grow out and, when it did, my previously straight hair had acquired a wavy kink that was more frizzy than full-on curly. Haunted by the memory of that South African cut, I kept growing my hair.Throughout my 20s and 30s, I was determined to have a long, glossy barnet. The problem was, my hair was very fine and when it reached a certain length, the scraggly ends would split and I’d have to go for another cut.For many moons, my wonderful hair stylist Olivia patiently trimmed my hair as I explained I wanted to ‘grow it out, please’. Every so often, she would gently suggest a more sizeable chop and I would bat away the idea. But then, one day, I decided she should go for it. Her eyes lit up.At first, we experimented with a shoulder-length bob. A ‘lob’, if you will. But when I realised how much I liked it, we kept going shorter. Now, I have a proper ‘bob‘ bob which tucks just beneath my ear. And I have never felt better about my hair.I love my bob because it feels fresh and witty and very me. I love it because it makes my hair look thicker and requires hardly any styling. I love it because it feels strong and feeling strong is one of my favourite ways to feel. Throughout my 20s and 30s, I was determined to have a long, glossy barnet, writes Elizabeth Day I love my bob because it feels fresh and witty and very me. I love it because it makes my hair look thicker and requires hardly any styling What I’ve noticed since cutting my hair short is how many other people will proffer their unsolicited opinions about itThe bob liberates women from hours spent in a chair having tongs and mousse and clips and sprays applied. It stands in direct opposition to the ‘porn star’ hair popularised by toxic masculinity: the kind of hair that weighs down feminism with its improbable extensions and a high-maintenance shade of blonde; the kind of hair that requires so much attention and work and money to keep up with that women have less time to do the things that matter.So, yes, I love my bob.But what I’ve noticed since cutting my hair short is how many other people will proffer their unsolicited opinions about it.It’s not just the strangers on the internet who will comment something unkind, saying it looks ‘weird’ or ‘not flattering’ or ‘unfeminine’. It’s also people in everyday life who believe a woman in possession of short hair must be in want of a discussion about it. At the airport earlier this year, a female member of the ground crew staff who I’ve met a handful of times asked me why I didn’t grow my hair.‘It would be much prettier!’ she insisted. ‘Just down to here,’ she said, gesturing at her shoulders. ‘Much better.’I’ve had enough of these exchanges now to know that I do not need to defend my decisions about bodily autonomy. So I simply said: ‘Well, I like my hair.’What I didn’t say – because I would never dream of such a thing – is: ‘Why don’t you cut your hair shorter? It would look so much better!’ In fact, I very much doubt people feel as emboldened to offer hair styling advice to women with longer hair. These women are deemed to fit the default mode of what is considered ‘female’. It’s only if you have the temerity to experiment with that definition that others appear quite comfortable telling you that you’ve got it wrong or they don’t like it or that you should change it.A few months ago, I met the TV presenter Emma Willis. She is one of the most strikingly beautiful women you could ever hope to cross paths with. She also happens to have short hair – shorter than mine – and it looks fantastic on her. I have adored her from afar for many years, not just because of the hair but also because she favours (as I do) a nicely tailored suit. When we met, we were both in jackets and trousers.‘Do you get people online telling you to grow your hair out?’ I asked.She rolled her eyes.‘All the time,’ she said. ‘And I get: “Why don’t you wear a dress?”’Isn’t that insane? In 2026! That’s how embedded patriarchal notions of femininity remain: we want our women in long hair and dresses. Preferably sporting a chastity belt.I now think of Emma any time I get an unwanted comment about my hair. Because although I love my bob, criticism still hurts. But then I remind myself that my tastes and my desires are what I express when I choose to look a certain way. This is my version of womanhood. It doesn’t have to be anyone else’s. And any time I begin to doubt whether short hair looks good, I think of Emma and my mother who, by the way, also has very short hair.So thank you for all those opinions I didn’t ask for, but these are the women I’d rather be like.theelizabethday.substack.com