Cutting Remarks

After much procrastinating, I finally got my hair shorn this week. Fortunately, I’m pleased with the results. But that's not always been the case.

My reluctance to get my hair cut dates back to my early years, when my mom would force my sister and me to walk up to the corner and get what they used to call a pixie cut. Translated, it means a very short bob with bangs.

 

The dreaded pixie cut.

I hated my pixie cuts.

These days, I frequent a Great Clips franchise located near my place of employment. It’s a crap shoot. The stylists change so often, it’s difficult to get the same one twice.

I have a photo of myself that shows the way I like my hair to be styled. I point and say, “Cut it like this.” I have not found this to be a guarantee of success. It is my belief that some beauticians have an idea of how to cut your hair, and they just go with that. For $13.99, you expect, what, to look like a runway model?

So I keep my expectations tiny, but sometimes I’m still whiny. I lucked out this week because my stylist listened and cut my hair exactly the way I asked her to. As a bonus, we had a discussion about hair coloring that was helpful.

Odd as it sounds, I have never colored my hair. Nope, never. But the day is nigh. The grey hairs, once an anomaly, are beginning to take over. So I know that one day soon, I will have to find someone who will do the deed and make the grey go away. For awhile. The trouble is, I know once I begin, there’s no going back, and I will be making regular appointments with a beautician.

Yes, a lot of women dye their hair at home. But I know my limitations. I don’t want to show up at work looking like Lucy.

When my mother-in-law lived with us, I used to take her to get her hair done. Now, when I think about going to a beauty parlor to get my locks colored, all I can see is a gaggle of octogenarians, paper-bibbed and ranting about their lumbagos and unruly grandchildren, while their stylists murmur, “really” and “oh my” and “what a shame.”

On the other hand, what’s so bad about grey hair? I look experienced. Mature.

Okay, okay, I get it. Move over, Agnes, I’m next.