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Messing with my hair is my own personal form of therapy. Some people binge eat; I cut my hair.
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For five days in a row, I came in to work wearing the wig and a different “identity” to go with it: Russian Badass, 90s Grunge Hacker, 60s Mod Party Girl, and Prim British Secretary.
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"You've got blue hair." It's the stunned reaction of cashiers and people I'm just meeting for the first time. As if I didn't know.