Decidedly Undecided

Oh hey, I cut more of my hair off this week. More accurately, my sister cut more of my hair off.

And also, my sister cut more of my hair off than I wanted her to.

This is mostly my fault, as I consistently turn into a complete idiot when faced with someone aiming those special hair-cutting scissors at my head. “I’d like it less straight across. Kind of choppy. Or chunky. Should I try bangs? No, forehead’s too big. Wait, maybe that’s a pro-bangs argument…” And the hair assassin just stands there, staring blankly, while I ramble myself into a bad haircut. Sis is in cosmetology school and I’m convinced they taught her this trick the first week in.

So I kept talking: “Okay, so let’s just take a little more off, all over. But not too much. And make it sort of messy but cool and easy but deliberate-looking. Oh here, I have a picture, but it’s not quite what I want, but kind of close…” Of course, this is all said in place of screaming “Do you see [insert celebrity with good hair here] in this picture?! That’s what I want! Make me her! Oh, god, just make this (gesturing wildly at body and head) better!!! So the world will love me again!”

Sister went to work with various tools and I watched more hair than I thought I could spare fall to the kitchen floor. My limp, baby-fine strands floated down in chunks, covering the tile. What was left on my head is a cross between A Right Choppy Mess, and The (sort of) Hip Soccer Mom, perhaps with a little 80s feather job sprinkled on top. I think I just need to accept that I’m not an edgy, punk-rock-y kind of girl. Part of me is still holding on, waiting for the day I quit this corporate gig and can paint bolder streaks into my hair, not worry about the tattoo(s) showing, and put all my earrings back in.

But for now, this particular haircut and I are warily circling each other, not sure whether to attack or be friends. Off-kilter. Every morning this week I’ve left the house wondering whether it was a Good Hair Day or a Bad Hair Day, and then not having the option to pull it all back if the verdict landed on Bad. Perhaps in a week or two I’ll decide it’s not a terrible look for me and keep it on my head for a while, but for now, it’s like making pasta without garlic- decent, but there’s no kick to keep me interested.

Probably just needs a few purple stripes.

2 comment:

Blogger Lisa said...

I know what you mean about the edgy stuff. I could tatoo and pierce myself crazy but yet I'd just look like a soccer mom who can't hold her liquor then got a tat and some piercings. Sigh...

2:36 PM  
Blogger Nervous Girl said...

You are too funny. I give an awful description to whomever is cutting my hair too - mostly leaving them with some room for artistic expression. But you know what I hate? The hairdressers that seem to use the mentality of breakin you down before building you back up. "Ohh, this hair... so damaged, I don't know..." and then after they're done "See? You looked like shit before, and I fixed you!" Hmm, yes this must be why I've only been thinking about a haircut for months now and haven't actually committed to it!

12:28 PM  

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