Jeep Hair, Don't Care

Maybe it was while you were driving down Main Street or as you merged onto the highway for your daily commute, but you've seen her. You know you have. 

She's the one cruising along with the top and doors off her Jeep. Not a care in the world as her hair is whipped into a frenzy by road wind. 

She’s the woman who unabashedly steps down out of her Jeep Wrangler at the supermarket or gas station with that classic windblown attitude we’ve all come to know and love as “Jeep Hair, Don’t Care.”

She might attempt to pat her coif back into some semblance of neatness.

Or not.

Either way, it’s her prerogative.

As women, society typically dictates that we present well. Meaning, makeup must always appear to be freshly applied, lip gloss popping, nails perfectly manicured, legs and pits shaved, never a drop of sweat, and nary a hair out of place on our heads.

But there comes a time when unbridled freedom must ring true.

For most Jeep girls, the times when we let our hair down and ride topless are the most liberating. Much like the release of coming home and popping the clasps on your bra after a long hard day at work, there’s nothing quite like riding down the open road with your favorite music blasting on the radio and your hair whipping wildly around your head.

While many of their male devotees continue to scoff (forgetting or purposefully ignoring the role women played in the Jeep's origin), the Jeep brand has increasingly embraced their ever-growing female tribe. At one point, Jeep even partnered with Snapchat to offer a custom "Jeep Hair, Don't Care" lens to ring in their nationally recognized 2nd annual Jeep 4×4 day on April 4th.

Breaking free of the societal shackles, otherwise known as "acceptable standards of grooming for women," is not only liberating in a figurative sense, it quite literally encourages us to push our everyday boundaries. When we explore areas outside our usual comfort zones, we're free to embrace the wild yearnings and wanderlust of youthful adventure, if only for the 20-minute commute to the office.

Sure, you probably won’t see her on the next cover of Vanity Fair or Cosmo, but deep down inside, you know you want to be her.




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