To Slut Strand, or Not to Slut Strand?
“So, what would you like done to your hair today?”
The hair stylist spun me in the chair and draped the apron over my shoulders.
As she ran her fingers through my uneven locks, I stammered, avoiding eye contact in the mirror.
“Oh, you know, maybe just some, like… shorter bits in front… Something that would hang out a bit when I’m wearing my ski helmet.”
My friends later laughed as I told them this, since we all know the hair stylist was probably like, “Yeah, yeah, slut strands, got it.”
But why did it feel so awkward for me to ask for “slut strands”?
Over a year ago, I sat down with pro freestyle snowboarder Erika Vikander for an episode of For The Love Of.
We talked about the concept of being “camera ready” as a female athlete.
ERIKA: ”Look at the way that Kelly Clark was treated back in the early 2010’s, when she was really at the heyday of her career… She was one of the top two girls in the entire world. But instead of talking about her snowboarding, they were constantly talking about how “not camera ready” she was… It even transpires into politics. When you see a female senator or any sort of public house speaker get up there, they're talking about her clothes before they're talking about her policy.”
I responded to Erika by mentioning the catch-22:
On the flip side, if you look at a female snow athlete’s Instagram account where she does look what society would call “camera ready,” you’ll see plenty of comments like, “Why did you do your hair? Just do the sport!”
Style your hair? Shove it all in your helmet? You can’t win, either way.
But plenty of younger athletes are embracing the term “slut strands.”
I’ve seen dozens of Instagram Reels explaining how to style them and protect them from the elements.
Strands give an air of femininity to an outfit that looks like the Michelin Man. I often like being recognized as a female on the slopes. Strands almost feel like a celebration of being a woman in a space many think are supposed to be just for men.
And, I get the power of reclaiming language.
“Bitch” was historically derogative. Yet, in 2024, my business partner and I made stickers that say, “You’re a bad bitch. Act accordingly.”
Like, yeah, I want to be a bad bitch. Why would “slut” be different?
The term "slut" is also historically loaded, often used to police women’s appearances or behaviors.
Could using the term in the context of skiing and snowboarding– especially when describing something as neutral as a few pieces of hair– be reinforcing casual sexism in sports?
Should we call them “shred” strands? “Steeze” strands (style + ease!)? Just “strands”?
I don’t have the answers. Sorry. But I do have food for thought (and it’s cheaper than the ski lodge cafeteria food):
To Slut Strand?:
Self-deprecation can form bonds in sports, like when athletes call each other “dirtbags” or “ski bums”.
Sport-specific slang is a part of sports culture and creates a sense of community.
When women reclaim words, we take back power.
It gets us talking about nuance like this!
Or Not to Slut Strand?:
The word “slut” perpetuates the idea that women’s looks are up for commentary in ways that men’s often aren’t.
The term could normalize the casual use of sexist slurs, even if used jokingly.
Women in action sports have had to fight for decades against being seen as "groupies" rather than serious athletes. Does “slut strands” subtly reinforce the stereotype that our presence is tied to appearance, rather than skill?
Is the term outdated? Society used to call knee push-ups “girl push-ups.” Language can change. Often for the better.
A few days after my haircut, I stuck my ski helmet on for Ski Day Monday.
As expected, the freshly cut tendrils escaped my braids, sticking out my helmet in the front.
They’re just barely noticeable, but they make me feel like me:
A woman, who is an athlete, and who isn’t taking herself too seriously, but who wants others to take her somewhat seriously without judging her skill on her looks.
A woman full of contradictions and evolving language and a need for self-expression, including in her appearance.
As they dangle in front of my goggles this season, these strands will remind me how I’m connected to other women on the mountain, a symbol of the progress we’ve made, but with a lot longer to go.