Does Alicent have a bush?
(A Historical Approach)
[for fun]
Recent conversation in the House of the Dragon fandom, stirred by Olivia Cooke's commentary on "The Claudia Winkleman show," made me think about what the possibilities are of Alicent having a bush.
In my very swift research about the subject, I found art to be the first and foremost evidence of depilation being common in medieval times.
"The evidence suggests that by the end of the Middle Ages, misogynistic scientific writing had made female body hair a psychic and physical danger to men, and for the woman, even a locus of anxiety about marriage prospects and fertility."
Cosmetic manuals like the Trotula offered instructions for reducing or removing hair on the face and even the genitalia. These precepts seem to lie behind the medieval ideal of female hairlessness—a beauty and hygiene canon that apparently had widespread acceptance and internalization by both aristocratic women and those who wished, cosmetically at least, to appear like them.
Different sources tie closely to depilation the wife’s desire to keep, and make sexually satisfying, the husband’s attention.
Artistic evidence shows women with her bare genitalia. Here we can see the bathing Bathsheba in a Book of Hours made in 1498–99 for King Louis XII of France by the preeminent French manuscript painter Jean Bourdichon (1457–1521).
Apparently, King Louis XII was very partial to such hairless nudes, as there were at least two others, one of Bathsheba and one of Eve, in books associated with him when he was Duke of Orléans.
Furthermore, hairy women were characterized both in scientific texts and in imaginative literature of the medieval and early modern periods not only as generally dangerous to men, but also as poor bets for marriage because of probable infertility and a potential for domineering behavior. The presence of facial and body hair in women was unnatural and hypermasculine in women of childbearing age.
However, surprising anyone ever, there was also condemnation of the act of depilation if it was done for the wrong reasons. Basically, if it didn’t have an actual connection with being fertile and a good wife and a healthy pregnancy and birth, it was taken as a sign of vanity.
As a summary, it is probable that the pressures of male gynophobic discourse contributed to the association of hair removal with female elegance and higher social status, as well as with marriageability and fertility among women of the middle and upper-middle classes.
Applying this to Alicent very loosely (knowing that GRRM doesn't take much inspiration from actual academic historical accounts, but more so from myths and popular legends from varied societies and eras, as mentioned in his interview with Dan Jones in 2019), it can be said that Alicent probably participated in the depilation of her pubic area, as expected of a woman of marrying age of her station and status, also linked with the fertility and being appealing to her husband, the King.
After Viserys' progressing sickness ended the sexual aspect of their relationship, however, we can argue that she possibly didn't feel the need to prepare herself in such a way, since she didn't need to appeal to her husband or focus on her fertility anymore.
Additionally, she could've considered the practice too vain in light of her responsibilities as a wife caring for her dying husband. And even more so as a widow.
Do I think she has a huge bush? No, not really. Her character is almost obsessed with being clean and bathes a lot, so I could imagine her having neatly trimmed pubic hair.
I can also argue she could feel a certain amount of sexual freedom from keeping that hair, a defiance only known to her. And Criston, later. Because I don't think she would shave to have sex with Criston lmao. He is a soldier, he can make do.
Anyways, this was done entirely as a fun exercise with no academic intention or any rigor whatsoever.
Feel free to pitch in with your ideas, I'm open to conversation :)
Source: "Eyebrows, Hairlines, and “Hairs Less in Sight”: Female Depilation in Late Medieval Europe" by John Block Friedman, found in "Medieval Clothing and Textiles", edited by Robin Netherton and Gale R. Owen-Crocker. (2019)
