Every day, there is a new opportunity for the bob agenda to further its influence. On your Instagram explore page, TikTok FYP, and Pinterest homepage, there are countless hair inspo posts featuring perfectly-styled cropped haircuts on beautiful people, which all plant the idea into your head: Should I, too, get a bob?
For me, personally, Gracie Abrams‘s bob inspires that glimmer… before an instinctual comb through my hair with my fingers reminds me that we absolutely have different hair textures and face shapes, and the voice in my head that knows better says, Girl, don’t do it. These beautiful bobs all seem to imply that once the ends of your hair brushes your jawline, it has a playful, freeing vibe that implies litheness, chicness, French-ness. We all want to feel effortlessly chic—arguably, the modern bob’s promise. Not all bobs are cut equally, and you do not want to go between the shears before understanding what will work for your hairtype and texture, lest you wind up with some fuckass bob that you can’t style your way out of. But what is a "fuckass bob," exactly? And how does it compare to the internet's other favorite bob, the "cunty bob?
Where did the "fuck ass bob" come from?
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Before we beachwaved our way to the modern, tousled bob seen in celebrity street style photos, the capital B-o-b cast this rather specific bell-shaped silhouette. You know it when you see it. You really do, trust me. Think Edna Mode, Anna Wintour, any Spirit Halloween store short-haired wig. The term originated from a 2019 viral video of a girl shouting at another girl, “You talk so much—SO MUCH… with that fuckass bob!” And then it was popularized again in a meme about Barbie Ferriera’s Euphoria character, Kat, and her hairstyle, and the flames were fanned with another X post about Kim Kardashian’s bob in 2023.
The fuckass bob is the unseasoned boiled chicken of bobs. It gets the job done. It’s when you went to the hairdresser, indicated to some area around your neck, and said, “cut it to here"—no frills, no individualized style, just short hair that stops bluntly at the same point around your chin. It’s most seen with a middle part, no face-framing anything. Some have said the fuckass bob is just a way to call it a bob ugly or unsophisticated, but I disagree. I think a severe, geometrical bob is a statement all its own. It expresses a certain girlbossery that summons the strength of our flapper ancestors and the spirit of Vidal Sassoon. It says, “I didn’t come here to make friends,” or, alternatively, “I’ll see you in court.”
But not to limit the impact of a FAB, it’s not all perfect angles. Sometimes you sit down in a particularly artistic hairstylist’s chair, give them an image reference from some hairstyling show’s technical award-winner, and they give you exactly what you thought you wanted: as seen on Clare in Fleabag (“Clare, it’s French!”) and this X post of Hayley Williams.
The Fuckass Bob is, for lack of better term, a vibe. And that vibe, if not cultivated with intention, can be chopped.
What about the "cunty bob"?
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The "cunty little bob" is like the FAB, but a bit more passive-aggressive. It speaks in tousled little flicks at the ends, lots of coquetteish, behind-the-ear action, and a severe blunt edge. Coined by Leslie Bibb and hairdresser Chris McMillan (“Some people have ‘the Rachel,’ I have the cunty little bob,” Bibb says in the video.) for her White Lotus character, the cunty little bob is, as McMillan says, “super blunt, straight across, slightly angled, longer in the front bob.” He cuts the back all the way up the nape of her neck. There’s really no place for the ends to rest. They must be free to land in the airspace between your shoulders and chin. The cut was made iconic by Bibb’s character, Kate, the smugly stealth-conservative member of the girls’ trip trio espousing effusive flattery at how good her friend’s (undisclosed) cosmetic work looks (we all know someone like Kate). It also happens to be, another dangerously cute bob.
The CLB is cute, fresh, fun, and it has teeth. It looks sweet and even a bit innocent, but is not to be underestimated. Dare I say, it’s more of an attitude than a technical term, given how the wearer can flip it to one side, tuck it behind an ear, and tousle it in a “who me?” sort of way, as they stay knowing very well who the hell they are.
If you search “cunty little bob” on Pinterest you see a lot of short, slightly-tousled-in-a-little-kid-kind-of-way cuts that have soft, angled pieces flicking out or framing the face. Some have bangs (artistic license). But none of them seem to dip lower than the chin. The same way that “French girl beauty” gaslit us into thinking that French women don’t wear makeup, eat only croissants, and never exercise, while remaining thin and radiantly beautiful, so, too, does the CLB posture its alleged “effortlessness” as every snip, every tuck, is indeed premeditated. It’s the performance of “chill” with the rigor of Amy Dunne from Gone Girl.
But I cannot argue that it looks great. And I bet it feels great. Having no pesky hair strangling you, bunching under your collars, or otherwise snarling into a tangled heap. The "cunty little bob" is a great style that weaponizes cuteness to pursue your ambitions, assert your superiority, and live your best life while conveniently dodging any sort of accountability.
The takeaway
@aubribraghttps://www.instagram.com/p/DMlZyUdoje6/?hl=en&img_index=1
The Bob has always been the short hair agenda’s most S-tier soldier. The track record of bob influence is just too staggering to ignore. And it doesn’t help that there happens to be a lot of universal life events that are too easily responded to by manually separating the ends of your hair from your shoulders: a breakup, getting out of professional or creative rut, making a hair donation to a charity because you saw a photo of Selena Gomez recently… Even those of us fervently committed to growing out our hair to Venus-in-a-clamshell lengths can, and will, be sabotaged by a beautiful bob on a wobbly day.
Now that my mostly-natural hair has grown down to my boobs and I’m enjoying the softness of my not-chemically-fried end, this feels like a healthy era for me and my hair. But, who knows—all it takes is one more unforeseen life plot twist this year to send me straight to the salon, clutching a photo of Aubri Brag, and risking it all.
