In April of 2009, after watching too many Tennessee Williams films, I decided that I needed to change my life, and, as it was 11pm on a Thursday night, it was raining, and I was broke, the most radical thing I could think to do was lock myself in the bathroom and hack off about nine inches of my hair with my paper scissors, effectively leaving me with the shortest, ugliest haircut I had ever had. As I had done this to myself on the day before Easter Weekend, it was a good four days before I could go and have it corrected professionally.
That was the beginning of a number of adventures in short hair. My struggles to get a cheap haircut that did not leave me looking like a member of a notorious English boy band from the 1960's* guided me through hair salons where a woman with shaking hands took 60 minutes to give me a trim, to the Marvel Hair School, where the student refused to cut more than an inch off my hair and finished off my visit by reassuring me that "it doesn't look as bad as I thought it would on you", to hair salons that could actually give me a descent haircut but, regrettably, charged accordingly**, until I finally got sick of paying for haircuts and decided to grow my hair out again.
I spent the next 10 months eagerly awaiting a time when I would be able to fit all of my hair into a ponytail again. Unfortunately, having had wonderfully short hair for so long, I had forgotten all the problems that come with having a head of gloriously thick, fine, long hair. Problems such as having hair elastics explode in the middle of my morning jog from the sheer force of the hair fighting against it, leaving my head cocooned in a mass of wild, tangled locks. Problems like taking 20 minutes just to blowdry the damn thing, or 3 hours minimum to let it air-dry. Problems like not being able to put my hair in a ponytail often anyway because it gives me a headache. Problems like really actually managing to slam my hair in my bedroom door more than once***.
All these problems were tolerable throughout the winter, when long hair meant a free scarf that I don't have to worry about forgetting on the bus. However, as soon as the weather turned warm, I began to really hate my long hair. Finally, it became too much for me. I booked myself for the earliest appointment I could fit into my schedule, and announced to my hairdresser that I wanted to get rid of "all of it".
And so, she took off "all of it", which is exactly what I had asked for. I now have really and truly the shortest hair I have ever had (well, since I was maybe 2 years old). Unfortunately, having had gloriously long hair for so long, I had forgotten the problems with having short hair. Like having to wash it every morning because it will mold itself into interesting shapes every night, regardless of what I do or do not do to it. Problems like, if it is a bit too short (as it is now), there isn't enough weight to the hair to actually hold it down, so a quick wash and a blow-dry will result in gravity-defying hair that will stand a good three inches straight up from my scalp without any prompting.
I will say this, though. It is wonderfully freeing, being able to shower in five minutes, dry my hair in less than three, and never having to worry about shutting it in the door again.
*Not that I have anything against members of 1960's English boy bands, nor people (male, female, or in between) who look like them. I just feel that it's not a great look for me.
**Hair Xetra. You should go!
***Although I will admit I was shutting the door in a very silly way.
Short hair problems are still far less problematic than long hair problems, in my short-haired opinion. Also: I want to see it! And Also also: Bumble and Bumble's sumotech hair pomade is the best short-hair styling stuff I've ever used. Expensive but lasts forEVER. You can get it at Edward Carriere on Spence, or at Jerry's in Grant Park Mall. Or maybe some other places I don't know about yet.
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