Monday, December 2, 2013

HAIR ( not the musical ...)




I had no idea that a simple haircut would be such a big emotional deal to me.

I've recently written about being a bit down in the dumps about my appearance, and a few weeks earlier, I wrote about burning big chunks of my hair off in an accident with a candle, and consequently getting it cut into a chin-length bob. It took me until the day before Thanksgiving last week to put the two events together.

Duh. I just had to finally admit that I hated having to cut my hair when I wasn't ready to do it, and hated how the resulting style looked on me.

I look like a garden gnome in all my pictures since "The Bob."

I've had hairstyle-fails before, but they didn't send me into a funk.

Next, I indulged in a good, thoroughly cathartic fit of weeping. Then I went to my old salon in the Big City, clutching a photo of a style I liked better and begged a stylist to fit me in without an appointment. She cut another 1.5 inches off, add some texture-y layers and show me how to flip them around a bit to break up what looks like an old fashioned "page-boy" to me. I am still learning some new hair styling skills, it's still bob-ish (in fact, another version) but not as rigid looking and I am happier.

But the big surprise in all this is how much I didn't like my original cut, and how low I felt about it. It was a good, competent haircut, but really not how I want to look. Lots of the women whose looks I admire most wear bobbed locks with panache, great flair and look completely beautiful in this very popular style. I envy all of you. I've appreciated and tried to internalize all the compliments and support I've gotten from so many of my bloggy friends in the comments section. But on me, I think it looks uptight (wow... how long has it been since you heard anyone use that word?) and more than a little constipated and stuffy. And I think I look just a little mean. I take notions about things, like leopard print and denim jackets and camouflage prints. Apparently, that applies to some hairstyles as well.

I'm still not happy about my hair, and I don't want to grow it long again, but I see a spark of potential. And I'm feeling better now that I've given up trying to force myself into liking it. Perhaps it's just me in my maturity, but life is seeming way too short to spend any more time at all trying to accept a haircut I don't like.

So I won't.



Here I am, still stuck in dressed-down, post-holiday, errand running mode, with the new cut. It was so cold out that Dan was shaky and the picture wasn't very sharp. I adjusted the color ... blouse is close, as are the oxblood jacket and cordovan booties. My hair came out much brighter than it really is, though, but you get an idea of the cut.
I was wearing lipstick that was almost burgundy ... go figure.

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I'll be showing up "late but present" at the always sweet-and-kind-looking Patti's Visible Monday 
and the ever inquisitive Seeker's linky party,