In penal colonies, a woman’s basic need to look neat and maintain her human dignity becomes a pretext for regular punishments, official reports, and psychological violence.
“The war on femininity” in a penal colony is not a random absence of cosmetics on camp store shelves, nor is it everyday neglect on a “leftover principle”. It is a deliberately constructed state policy aimed at the complete erasure of gender identity. The penitentiary system cynically turns a woman’s natural and basic need to look presentable into a zone of constant personal risk and an instrument of rigid, total control.
A Symbol of Protest and a Deficit for Pennies
Any manifestation of individuality in conditions of confinement is perceived by the administration as a rebellion and is immediately suppressed. The most vivid example of this uncompromising struggle was the complete seizure and banning of red cosmetics. After political prisoner Maryia Kalesnikava turned bright red lipstick into an international symbol of resilience and protest, the camp store was cleared instantly: absolutely all red lipsticks and lip pencils were removed from the stock.
However, even basic hygienic care proves inaccessible for most women. Decorative cosmetics in the colony are an unattainable luxury. Constrained by a strict financial limit (for many convicts it does not exceed 84 rubles per month), women are forced to spend almost all their funds on basic hygiene products. Only a few manage to buy an ordinary facial moisturizer to protect their skin in harsh camp conditions—there is simply no money left for it.
Forbidden Bangs and “Greasy Headscarves”
The administration has turned hair care into an absurd obstacle course. Inmates are required to wear uniform headscarves at all times. Considering that, according to the schedule, showers are allowed strictly once a week, the headscarves rapidly become greasy, and the hair underneath turns into a tangled mat.
At the same time, personal grooming is equated to a gross violation of the prison regime. Women are strictly forbidden to cut their own hair or each other’s hair. An attempt to trim overgrown bangs or split ends with scissors secretly taken from the sewing factory is treated as a serious infraction. If a woman is caught with scissors in the restroom, a disciplinary report is guaranteed.
The official route—the colony’s hair salon—exists largely on paper. There is only one hairdresser for 1,500 inmates. The waiting lists stretch for months: according to former convicts, it is possible to visit the hair salon no more than twice during an entire one-year sentence.
Hunting for an “Untidy Appearance”
The main paradox and cynicism of the penitentiary machine lie in a vicious cycle: while depriving women of the physical opportunity to take care of themselves, it simultaneously punishes them regularly for the consequences of this deprivation.
The colony administration, which includes male officers, regularly conducts strict inspections. Tensely and intently, the inspectors scrutinize every detail: nail length, neatness of hairstyles, and the condition of uniforms. According to former prisoners, staff members purposefully search for any pretext to issue a report for an “untidy appearance”. A woman finds herself trapped: she is powerless to put herself in order, yet she pays for the slightest flaw in her appearance with punishment cells or the revocation of visitation rights.
Trial by Cold
With the onset of winter, the institutional “war on femininity” escalates into pure physical torture. Gloves are fundamentally excluded from the standard set of winter clothing issued by the colony.
If a convict has no support from outside or is denied the right to receive care packages, she is forced to go out into severe frost with bare hands. The cheapest gloves in the prison store cost around 10 rubles. Given camp wages of just a few kopecks or rubles, a woman has to work for 2 to 3 months (and sometimes longer) just to save her hands from frostbite and deep cracks.