I’m going out on a limb and assuming we’ve all been there -- that moment when you are looking in the mirror and cannot even deal with the tangle your hair has become. A couple weeks ago, that was me. My hair down past my shoulders, limp and boring, left me once again wondering how in the hell I was supposed to style it at this length.
My plan was to trim my bangs and mess with my hair for a bit to battle some boredom. Instead, I chopped my own hair off.
I had never cut it myself before. As someone who still has no clue how to use eyeshadow correctly and can’t get hair to curl right, I always outsourced my haircuts. Although I’d occasionally trim my own bangs, the idea of cutting my own hair was terrifying. Until it suddenly wasn’t.
My first thought was of the television show "The Newsroom". In the latest season, a character cuts off her own hair during a slow-motion breakdown. The show made a big point to make it clear that someone cutting her own hair was a call for help, and so when the thought crossed my mind I panicked a bit. Was I making a call for help? Was this actual psychotic behavior and somehow my quarter-life crisis had crossed the line into full-on breakdown?
For me, the answer was no. I’m fine -- I just didn’t want to have long hair anymore.
So, I started cutting, going in small pieces until I had a chin-length bob. All in all, it came out pretty well considering I did it with kitchen scissors over the bathroom sink.
A couple weeks have passed and I’m still really happy with my super impulsive styling move. It’s a bonus that I don’t have to blow dry it -- seriously, I’m so lazy. And considering my tendency to let my hair grow like crazy and then get a pixie-cut on a whim, this is really less intense a change than I’m used to undertaking.
It’s not that I’ve had a secret haircutting gift inside me that bloomed when I picked up a pair of kitchen scissors. In fact, there are some serious chunks going on in the back. I couldn’t actually see what I was doing, so I’m pretty sure it’s horribly uneven no matter how much my partner assures me it is pretty alright. If I don’t part it right, it looks weird because of how it was parted when I cut it. Blending is not something I could do with the tools I had, despite trying very hard.
What I love about this haircut is that I did it myself. I’ve always hated my hair, which tends to be fine and limp and awkward. I’ve always outsourced the battle, and as a result could blame someone else when I didn’t walk out of the salon looking like Zooey Deschanel or Jean Seberg (both of whom I’ve tried to emulate hair-wise in the past).
I can’t blame anyone else for the random chunks hanging around in my under layer. For the first time, I feel actual ownership over my hair, and it’s let me come to terms with the hair I have vs. the hair I wish I had.
Will I do it again? Maybe. I’m very aware of the fact that one slip of the scissors could turn any warm sentiments into cold regret very easily, so I might not be brave enough to try it again. But I still feel very good about the fact that I was able to chop it all off and actually like the result. Who knows, maybe next time I’ll be ambitious enough to figure out eyeshadow.
What's the most impulsive beauty decision you've ever made?