I got tired of my hair being long. It was fun for awhile, and fun when it grew long enough for braids, and fun when it grew long enough to be rolled into a nice smooth bun. But the way I REALLY like to wear my hair is in a sproingy (i.e., ends fountaining instead of tucked) French twist, and that stopped working sometime last spring. That's when I started the process of Intending to Make a Hair Appointment, and please note that today is a day in November---six to eight months past spring.
The other day I caught a glimpse of myself in a store mirror, and I SIGHED about my hair: I don't have bangs, so a bun can look kind of severe, especially with my glasses and not wearing much make-up. I pulled out the bun so it was a ponytail instead, but it looked long and draggy and I didn't feel cute.
Yesterday I tried wearing it down but it wasn't a flattering look, so then I tried to put it in a bun but it was too dry for that to work right, so then I tried a ponytail and it looked wavy in some places and straight in others and the general effect was "got out of bed and put hair right into ponytail" combined with "way overdue for a haircut."
And this kind of thing has been going on for MONTHS. But...to make an appointment, I'd have to use the phone, and I'd have to find a time that worked for the stylist and for me, and it would have to be a time when I didn't have children with me and GAH. So this morning I cut it myself.
Practical, sensible, and economical? Or disturbing manifestation of increasing mental illness? I think as a culture we decide such things by the RESULT: if Britney Spears had looked gorgeous with a shaved head we would have been wowed by her nerve and style.
The ends are not as crisp as when my stylist does it (I have good haircutting scissors I use for the kids' haircuts, but they're not PROFESSIONAL-good scissors, just regular good) (er, plus I don't know what I'm doing like a trained haircutter does), and it's a plain blunt cut with no shaping or layering so it'll be a little triangular when it dries. It still could use an actual appointment with an actual person who knows how to cut hair.
But as a haircut that was meant to remove 5-6 inches of extra length until I get around to making such an appointment, I am very pleased with it. I only had to go around the perimeter once for the main removal part: no "Oops, this side is longer. Oops, now the other side is longer. Oops, CRAP." And now it's short enough to avoid ouchie tangles, short enough to use one box of hair color instead of two, and short enough for a flippy French twist. HAPPY.
Gift ideas for an 8-year-old, part 2 of 2 - Last week I talked about the gifts we were getting/considering for Edward, who is turning 8 next month. This week it’s Elizabeth’s turn: not “girl gifts,” ...