“I have an idea,” I said pensively in the cold, round sink to my stylist.
Intrigued, she ran the water and asked what it was.
I had decided to shave my head. Well, really I was thinking about buzzing off a huge chunk for the “undercut” look I saw an edgy waitress pull off a week ago. She may not actually be that edgy, but she was practical as hell which I can appreciate. Initially I had seen people with the sides shaved, but this woman only did the nape of her neck. She had a cute little bun and looked so cool… literally. Many people (especially athletes) choose that cut just to get hot, sweaty hair of their necks. SO. PRACTICAL.
I have tons of hair. Any time I go to a salon (ever) someone comments on it.
“Welp. That’s my work out for the day.”
“So many women would kill for this hair.”
“You go through tons of shampoo, don’t you? Don’t you?!”
“Layers. You need lots of layers. ”
“I wouldn’t do my own hair either if I were you.”
This year I embraced it. I let it grow and resolved to get blow outs in order to save hours in my own styling and frustration. I treated myself to thick, long, stylish hair simply because I wanted to. I couldn’t wear it long and curly anymore because it would get too tangled underneath. So I found a bunch of groupon packages for frequent blowouts to make it more manageable. Over and over again.
One day I was on the bike in a little bit of a drizzle and came home to my hair undone. I had these really cool “S” waves that I almost forgot about with my hair constantly smooth. I liked it and thought it was a shame I couldn’t (easily) have the best of both worlds.
Or could I? I decided to look online and found this version of an undercut that is a triangle shape on the back of the head, which is obviously where I have the most hair (and poof). But what I loved more is that when you pull it back, you can barely see the cut because there’s still plenty of hair on the sides.
So I ran it by my stylist who pulled out the razor a little faster than expected and *buzz* it was done. I had so much adrenaline coursing through my body in that moment and I’m pretty sure the rest of the salon did too. What if I regret it? Sure, it’s not forever but this isn’t just any cut. What if the tip of the triangle is too high and you can see bald spots underneath? What it the triangle is too wide so you actually can see the sides? Will I sacrifice professionalism? Vanity? My mother’s love?
And then my stylist showed me the back with a mirror. I saw my hair line for the first time. I saw the rich dark color of my roots. I felt the sweet freedom of weight off my shoulders.
Best off all I feel a little less oppressed by society’s beauty standards. Unfortunately, there’s some value in upholding those standards since life is often easier for people who look a certain way. But when I spend hours detangling hair, pushing my arms to work as fast as they can while slipping in the shower from all the conditioner, it’s an annoying reminder that ultimately the jokes on me. My boyfriend never has to do any of that miserable business. And I technically I don’t have to either… except I kind of do.
So this is my little work-around. I’m so excited to wear my hair’s natural texture again and not have to regret it later while brushing. Now I have more time to do what I want like blogging. Holla!