[img]1325|left|Alex Campbell ||no_popup[/img]Dateline Boston — Things I have done on a whim, which later turned out to be mistakes:
• Got a tattoo by an unknown artist at a tattoo convention.
• Got my nose pierced.
• Got most of my hair cut off five months before my wedding.
Let’s talk about that last one. I made a drastic change to my hair every couple of years. Why stop now? Oh, maybe because I had a whole hair plan for my wedding and I blew it, that’s why!
I am obsessed with my hair, and vain to boot. Bad combo. A few years ago, I had my hair cut into a chin-length bob. It was my natural color, brown and grey. I liked it well enough, until I got blond highlights. Then my world exploded. I got so many compliments on my highlighted hair that I decided to keep it up. I was gorgeous!
Things were great for awhile. I loved my hair. I felt cute. It was easy to take care of. Until my roots started to show. My hair began to take on a funny tri-colored hue; brown, grey, and blond. I felt like a Shih tzu. I noticed that the ends of my hair were really dry. If I really wanted to keep up with my hair, I’d have to touch up my roots every eight weeks, and get a trim almost as often. There was no way I could justify spending at least $125 a month just to get compliments. My solution? A 99-cent elastic, to keep my growing hair in a ponytail.
Then I got engaged. I pored over magazines and pictures on the internet, looking at wedding hairstyles. The one style I came back to again and again was the simplest and most classic one: The chignon. Basically, it’s just your hair all pulled back into a knot at the base of your neck. I decided to grow my hair so it would be long enough for a chignon when it came time for me to walk down the aisle.
Returning to My Roots
My hair grows pretty quickly—soon it was touching my shoulders, and it flipped up in a perky way. Adorable. Except for those pesky roots. I went to get a trim at the new salon Anthony, my stylist of 20 years, had moved to. Up the staircase I went, and up went the price of my haircut! I couldn’t afford to highlight my hair at those prices. My striped tresses would have to deal.
As the months went on, I started dreaming of the day after the wedding, when I would chop my hair and get it back to the chin-length bob style I loved. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why on earth I was growing my hair for a style I would have for just one day. Ridiculous! I got this urge to cut my hair; once I get the urge to do something, I think about it for weeks or months, and then one day I just do it. Well, I did it.
I looked through my file folder labeled, “hair” (true story), and sorted through pictures I had been saving for years. I pulled out a style I had always wanted to try: long side swept bangs in front, short on the sides. I brought it in to Anthony. He looked at the pictures and said, “Are you ready for this?” Was I ever. “Cut it off!” I cried. He cut it off, and two weeks later I want to cry.
I’ve had short hair lots of times. I always forget how much work it is. I have to style it more because there always seem to be stray hairs sticking up. My cowlicks pop up. I have to put product in it to make it stay. I can’t wear a hat in the winter because then I’ll get “hat hair.” My vanity level is at code red. I look like Suze Orman. I want to wear a leather jacket and shout at people to disconnect their cable and get a second job. I forgot that my hair has a wave to it. If the weather is a little humid, my hair does this big wave on my forehead. On those days, I look like an elf. I am hypercritical.
Tinker Who?
I’ve gotten all sorts of compliments, however. The best one was from my friend Barb, who declared that I looked like Tinkerbell. It suits me, I carry it well, not everyone could pull off a hairstyle like that, yada yada yada. Great. I’d like to pull it off and give it to someone else. When my friend Sophie saw it and I complained, she said, “You have to poof it up, don’t flatten it down. You need more product.” She flicked her fingers through my hair. I realized then that what I want is no product and flat hair. Like the kind you tuck behind your ears and then put in a ponytail.
Here’s the thing about me: I need to experience something before I can say if I like it or not. I wanted to try this hairstyle. I tried it. I’m not in love with it. I’ll grow it out, and it won’t take long. I even put a headband in it, and I can almost fake the pulled back look. I’ll see what happens when I get married. It will be a different style then, and I’ll roll with it. Till then, who wouldn’t want to take financial advice from a fairy?
Ms. Campbell may be contacted at snobbyblog@gmail.com
