Congratulations, readers. Today, you get three polaroids instead of one. Because this is a very short photo essay on haircuts. You could say it was trimmed. Har har har, knee-slap, har har. You're so welcome.
This is my last haircut, circa April of this year. Gasp! Choke! Sputter! What?! I know. It's practically Thanksgiving. I'm beyond overdue.
My hair looks nothing like this now, due to the fact that two summers ago I dyed my hair a striking Marilyn Monroe blonde and it has since lightened up every time I dye it. Even though I've cut most of those locks, the blonde seeps back through. What was left of the blonde is pretty much just the tips, but you can still see it.
And really, I don't mind. Right now my hair is like Neapolitan ice-cream. Blonde on the bottom, red remaining from this dark color, and my natural milk chocolate hair blending in from the roots.
Due to the angled cut, my hair has these two long pieces in the front now. It's like I'm from Middle Earth. What do my Elven eyes see??
Only that next paycheck, I'm getting a haircut.
This is was the best hair cut I've ever had, or at least my favorite.
I loved everything about it. This was my subsequent trade-off from the crazy golden locks of summer. The warm brunette made me feel like myself again, just a better, more styled version.
This is also when I tried bangs and loved it. This has not always been my experience, as hair is always an experiment.
Nothing reminds you that there are no rehearsals for life like haircuts. One learns this by experience, such as wishing for a perm in sixth grade. Readers, be careful with what you wish for.
This also may have been the most expensive haircut of my short life. Do you think that fact subconsciously contributes to it being my favorite?
This is the best haircut I ever gave. (Thus far)My mother, father, and I were snowed into the Dudding Manor in January. School was canceled, the roads were forbidden, and the electricity was sketchy.
We did all the things people do when the forces of nature keep you from going anywhere. Exhausted from Monopoly, playing in snow, reading, playing music, dancing around the wood stove, we collapsed onto the floor, the couch, and the large corduroy chair respectively.
"Well," I recall my dad saying with a sigh, "I guess you guys can give me a haircut."
What we gave him was a real punk rock mohawk and Teddy Roosevelt chops. Which gave way to a photo shoot. And entertainment for hours.
Man, I wish I had traced that shadow.
This has been a short photo essay about haircuts. Thank you and come again.
Awesome! Coincidentally, I'm setting a haircut appointment this week. These two articles have provided inspiration.
ReplyDeleteThey can't say we don't know how to have a good time on a snow day!
ReplyDeleteI have a lot to say about hair cuts. First, not to be a one upper but I'm more then over due I'm desperate. I haven't cut my hair since July of 2009. I know this because I cut it super super short but my hair is actually really long now like inching to the middle of my back when it's straight. I would also like to reflect on my favorite Olivia Dudding Hair Disaster- We left Attractions with me as happy as a bumblebee and you resembling Cathy with frustration squiggles emanating from your head (the frustration squiggles being your hair). It was grey outside and while we waited for mom you began to whimper and I began to sing... ahhhhsebenyaaa. I serenaded you with The Circle of Life and I think you hit me (it was a well deserved beating). Then the heavens opened you walked into the rain and Trailor Park mom curls vanished. All was right in the world again.
ReplyDelete