I wear my pigtails because I've always had "bad hair." Every woman on the Dominican side of my family put in their long, labourious hours trying to tame my hair, or explain it at the beauty parlor. Sometimes straightened without my permission, my hair was out of my own control for so long. Now that I manage it myself, I want all my difficult and unruly curls intact so every person who ever reinforced that “bad hair” label can be mesmerized. I wear my pigtails to show off how good my "bad hair" is.
I wear my pigtails because my sister used to say I looked so cute in them that I could get away with murder. If my looks could kill, you would surely need a medic. Apparently women are all vixens, sirens, and temptresses, and "jail bait" when they're too young to consent. I was devastated when I turned 14 because I knew I wasn't a "nymphet" anymore. I had only ever learned about my sexuality in terms of male pleasure and believed that Lolita was the pinnacle of girlhood. I was on a date with an older man recently and he called me "dangerous" when I teased him. But logically and realistically, he was the dangerous one. Bigger than me, stronger than me, more credible than me in a court of law if he decided to take by force, because his tits weren't hanging out. So to reclaim my role as a baby femme fatale from the legal side of 17, to murder you sweetly and to call attention from the blood on my hands, I wear pigtails like a good girl.
I wear my pigtails because I'm not quite sure how to be femme and I feel like a little girl who snuck into Mommy's make-up and jewelry. If I have to revert back to childhood to feel feminine, I may as well be a spoiled princess this time around, like my rough childhood never allowed. I'm not really a femme; I'm playing dress up like a naughty, pouty, foot-stamping Babygirl who needs discipline and a nice, firm tug on her hair. I wear pigtails like a good girl so you have something to grab when you’re teaching me how to be good.
I wear my pigtails because I’m already big. Every part of my body stands out and takes up space: big voice, big lips, big tits, big stomach, big arms, big thighs. There’s no need to try and make my big hair seem quiet and small. Women are constantly being told that there is no room for big, loud women here, but the more space I occupy, the better! I demand to be seen and heard. I wear pigtails to do myself some good.