If there is anything that never changes about me and my hair is that, for now, it remains ginger if not ginger-er (thank you my darling daughter #!!) and that it can be seen in any given length at any given time of any given year of any given life-stage of my life. Did you see that crazy 30-second video of 31 years of
When Bill and I got married, my hair was extraordinarily long…and big…it was the 80’s. My sister-in-law worked her magic and wrestled all that hair up into the most fantastical Gibson Girl knot to go with the Gunne Sax gown that I wore the day that we were married. So amazing was that up-do because it did not move as Bill and I drove down Highway 17 in a convertible with the top down. I bow down to Teri’s skills and Aqua Net and so many hair pins that I was still finding trapped in my hair days later while on our honeymoon. But soon enough the honeymoon was over and I CHOPPED off all that hair…pretty much all of it. Bill came home from work one day a few months later to find that his bride was now sporting a spiky pixie shorter than his epic afro. He had no clue that this was going to happen. It was that day that I knew that it was so much more than my hair that he loved as he did not react at all. Well, he did ask me, after telling me how his day was at work, to next time I did something crazy with my hair just let him know. It was only over dinner, and a couple beers, did he confess that the first thought that came to his mind that day was “What the fuck did she do?!” But he wisely decided that he should not say that out loud. And so I promised him that…and over the last 31 years I have kept that promise…every time I chopped off all the hair or subjected it to some crazy-assed spiral perm because my thick, wavy, curly, unruly hair wasn’t nearly crazy enough for those dark times known as the late 80s-early 90s. Looking back through the years it seems that I go every three to four years before I do something crazy, drastic to my hair and, as I promised my darling husband, I let him know.
So I’m thinking that I’m going to let Hollie chop off all of my hair…
And then I did…and Hollie did.
Yes, I know what Coco Chanel said:
A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life.
I’m also aware of that school of thought that “When a woman cuts her hair off, it’s not about wanting a cute new look, no matter what anyone says. It’s about sheer emotional turmoil…But why should this be? Why should a woman’s hair have anything to do with her emotions?
Because hair, for almost every woman, represents femininity and beauty, and sometimes, therefore, what she thinks of herself. When you deal with these aspects of a woman, emotions naturally run high.”
Um, yeah. No. It’s amazing that people believe and think like that.
Different strokes, I guess.
Why I from time to time will chop all the hair off is because I feel the need to get out from under the security blanket that is my hair. I have no choice but to be bolder without all the hair. There is so much more to me than a glorious head of hair with long, luscious locks…and yes, I do believe that when long it is pretty glorious and luscious. Still there is so much more to me than all of that hair.
Some would suggest that I can do that because I have the right face for such a look but then again with confidence, boldness, rebellion and a little discomfort comes the ability to wear one’s hair that short. The shape of one’s face, their cheekbones and bone structure have little to do with confidence, boldness, rebellion and discomfort.
Sometimes the hair was all chopped off because it was time for a change…a new baby or two or three or more come to mind. Sometimes you just need a change. Sometimes you just want the ability to practically wash and go and not be stuck with that equally wash and go ponytail or top-knot because tension alopecia is not pretty.
So today, for now, most, er, some of the hair is gone and I’m feeling a little bit scalped and ten pounds lighter, definitely cooler and perhaps a little bit more vulnerable without that veil to hide behind… I’m liking it.
Yes, my darling husband, and the rest of the family approves too…or at least is used to the time to change. again. Then again, it does run in the family…even to the next generation too.
No big deal. It’s just hair.