Wednesday, October 22, 2014

The Lifespan of a Haircut - in Firefly Gifs

I associate with many women of many different ages and in many different places in life and almost all of them know how they want their hair to look and they pay someone to make it look that way.  I find this admirably exotic like how French women allegedly never get fat and or being able to hula without belly fat flopping all around.

I recently got about 8 inches of hair cut off.  I would like to take you through this journey with me and as a visual aid I'm going to use Firefly gifs because I recently finished a rewatch of the one season (ONE SEASON! WHY?!?) it got.  I haven't watched Serenity yet, though. I'm not emotionally stable enough since I got my hair cut for the thing that happens in that movie that is so sad.  Spoilers, or whatever.

Bloggity Proviso: for the purposes of this single blogpost we are going to pretend that Adam Baldwin descended from a mountain and starred in a couple of Joss Whedon series and then retired to a yurt (that's a thing, right? a yurt?) where he does meditation and builds those rock sculpture thingies that are only designed to last briefly and wears caftans and is very much at peace with the world.  But in real life fuck Adam Baldwin and all that #gamergate bullshit

It begins:

I have not cut my hair in 18 months. It's super long.  I feel trapped in a hairsuit.  I am unable to comprehend a time when I didn't cut my own bangs and feel kind of guilty about it.  I don't know what to do.

I'm very distressed about the way I look.  I'm feeling sort of sister-wife with this long hair.

I appeal to my beloved to reassurance.

Then I seize on a decision.  I decide to just go to the place down the street where Laney got her hair cut last and just fucking do it.  Hair grows!  I'm going to cut mine off.  I feel like this:

After the lady finishes cutting my hair, she styles it and blows it dry and it looks so good. I gaze at myself like this.

But you know, when you're looking in a salon mirror, you have to see yourself sitting in that damn chair and it's all full bodied and bright light and while I liked it, it wasn't until I got home and looked in a friendly house mirror that I really liked it and was all:

But then a day or two pass and I wash it and I can't make it look like the lady at the salon made it look and I find I'm all what is happening here?!:

And it gets worse.  It won't settle down!  I seek out terrible workarounds:

I knew this would happen.  This isn't my first damn haircut. I pour a drink.

I am SO frustrated!  Why did I cut my hair?  It used to look so cute in my standard ponytails and buns.  What did I do to myself?!?!?!

But a few weeks pass, and I start to get a little more used to it.  I tuck the front bit behind my ears and it's sort of better and I think:

One day, entirely by accident, I do something and it looks almost as good as it did when I left the salon:

Or am I just kidding myself?

And then comes the end of this journey.  While there will still be days when I catch myself in the mirror and am all:

That's pretty much same as it ever was.  This is the hair that is on my head.  It looks fine.  I am at peace.