Posted in: Feminism, Women and Madness
Published on Apr 18, 2020 by Phyllis Chesler
WRITING WOMEN AND MADNESS, SUMMER, 1971
There I am, with my beloved red Selectric typewriter, my glasses of yore, and my still long hair, working in a cabin in the woods at the MacDowell Artist’s Colony in Peterborough, New Hampshire.
There I am, looking so serious, so determined, and yet so at ease, purposeful. Within two years, maybe less, I would rush into Vidal Sasoon and demand the shortest cut possible. And why? I no longer had the time to dry long hair. Interestingly enough, sculpted short hair brought out the “femme” in me and saved me precious hours.
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