it’s not just about hair

I recently got a haircut.  A major one.  Like, over 8 inches chopped off.  It’s so short that I can barely pull strands to my nose to smell them.  (I like the way my shampoo smells, okay?)  I didn’t get a divorce or quit my job or do any of the other things that seem to make women want to drastically change their hair.  I was just tired of it being long.  It was starting to annoy me.  And, this is kind of a cycle for me – grow it out, cut it off, grow it out, cut it off.  Only this time, I had grown it out excessively and then I cut it off to an equal degree.  The stylist was a bit nervous, but I assured her that I would not regret my actions in the morning.  Plus, what gal with tattoos would be afraid of a hair cut?  Hair grows back. 

Anyway, when I debuted my new do at work the first thing people asked me, after asking if I liked it, was: “What does your husband think?”  It’s an interesting question.  I know that some people assume that I discussed the issue with my husband beforehand – which I didn’t.  Others assume that my husband has a say in how I wear my hair – which he doesn’t. 

After 10+ years of marriage, I know that my husband likes short hair, so I knew that he would probably like my new style.  However, I also know that he really doesn’t care what I do with my hair so long as I like it.  And even though he prefers short hair, he never made a comment or suggestion regarding me cutting it while it was long.  And that’s why we’ve had 10+ years of marriage. 

Even more interesting than my co-workers’ question, was their comment after I answered.  More than a few mentioned that their husbands would have been pissed if they changed their hair as dramatically as I had.  This says as much about their husbands as it does about them.  These are grown women, with professional careers, who also probably do 90% of the housework and take care of their children.  They are married to overbearing men who probably wouldn’t know how to boil pasta if their life depended on it and who are so insecure that they have to be consulted before their wives do anything as mundane as change their hair.  Pathetic on all levels. 

It’s not just about hair.  It’s about knowing what’s important and what you can let go.  It’s about keeping the big picture crystal clear and the minutiae in soft focus.  I could never be married to someone who’s big picture included me styling my hair a certain way or wearing certain clothes.  I will never understand women who resign themselves to living that way.  Life is way too short. 

 

Crowning Glory.

I have an appointment to get my hair cut on Friday. That gives me a day and a half to figure out what I want. No. Strike that. I know what I want, I need to figure out how to describe it to the hairdresser.

I want to keep it long, but don’t mind losing a little length.
Leave it long enough to pull back into a pony tail, but give me loose strands that will automatically fall to frame my face.
I want side-swept bangs that fall just below my right eyebrow, but never get in my eyes.
It should be conservative enough to go with my office attire, but edgy enough to go with the tattoos under my office attire.
I want the most desired style that is in all the fashion magazines, but I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.
Cut it so it looks just as good air dried as it does when I spend 20 minutes blow drying it.
It should shake wildly when I dance and sexily cover my face, but never get tangled or sweaty.
I want it to get me out of a ticket and into a private party.
When someone calls my name, I want it to sway in slow-motion when I turn my head to answer, and fall across my back and shoulders in a perfect wave.
I want it to make my eyes bigger, cheekbones higher, neck longer, teeth whiter.
I want it to make my clothes look more expensive.
I want it to never turn gray.

I want what most women want from a new haircut – for it to change my life for the better in every way possible. But, like most women, when I’m in that chair and she asks what I want done, I’ll answer: “Oh, just trim up my ends. Thanks.”