Tags

, ,

When it’s time for a haircut, sometimes it’s time for a serious haircut.

Here’s what I started with …

Me, with longish hair, May 2011.

Me, with longish hair, May 2011.

Once my hair starts hanging in my face and wigging out with humidity, that’s when I’m ready to hack it off. I don’t usually go for a drastic cut, but this time I was tempted to shave it all off. Here’s what I ended up with instead …

My short haircut, June 2011.

My short haircut, June 2011.

Erin, my favorite hairstylist at Fantastic Sam’s, asked if I wanted any length by the ears. Nope! Cut it short! And she did exactly what I wanted. (My other favorite hairstylist is my sister-in-law, who was the first to cut my hair this short while Erik and I were young. I used a pic of the two of us, me with this haircut from Sister-in-Law, to show Erin my desired cut.)

I’ve been thinking about my no-nonsense attitude toward my hair. I want it easy to care for; shampoo, blow-dry and brush and that’s that. No fuss. While my hair is attached to me, I’m not particularly attached to it. Perhaps it’s because I have so much hair that I have no fear of going bald. Actually, it might be fun to see how I’d look bald, plus I’d get to watch my hair grow back in. I have a sense of adventure when it comes to my hair.

My mom, in contrast, is very attached to her hair, and to my hair and my sister’s hair. When we were growing up, she wanted us to have it perpetually long, with no bangs. When I got bangs while in middle school, she went ballistic. Nor was she happy when I got it cut to shoulder-length and permed in high school. Her attachment to hair may stem from the fact that she lost so much of it due to the drugs she was given for her many polio surgeries. She ended up with very thin hair, which never grew back in. Having two daughters with long hair was a way to live out her own hair fantasies. Unfortunately, she ended up with a daughter who periodically likes to be shorn.