I remember a very specific trip with my mom to our stylist.
This particular trip, my mom had her hair in a low ponytail, just like it had been for months (or years). It was long and boring and starting to gray around the edges. We went in to see Glen, our trusty stylist, and she said she was ready.
So he took her ponytail, lowered the elastic a little bit, grabbed his sharp scissors, and cut. I remember the sound. I remember seeing my mom without her ponytail. It was strange. I remember feeling like my mom was “old” then, like those old ladies who get their hair washed and set every Friday.
In hindsight, she was probably only about my age. Maybe a little older.
I realized a few weeks ago I wanted a change. I’m tired of waking up in the morning, throwing my hair in a ponytail or bun or worse, a ponytail that ends up in a bun on top of my head by 10am. I’m tired of feeling frumpy (not that long hair is frumpy) and complacent with my beauty (ha) routine.
So today, with the help of my friend Tracy (an instructor at the Paul Mitchell School here in ATL), THIS HAPPENED:
After a straightening treatment to take the curl (mostly) out of my hair, the most amazing shampooing I’ve every experienced, Tracy put my hair in a ponytail and cut. There was a good 6″ of hair in a 1″ thick ponytail when she was finished.
And then in an Edward Scissorhands-like fashion, she turned this (left) into this (right).
I’m at that point where I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry… I’ll let you know after I’ve had to fix it by myself, I guess!
And if I hate it, it’s just hair, right?