In which Madeline gets a haircut
Aug. 16th, 2004 08:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zdashamberI've had the same hairstyle for as long as I've had control of my hairstyle, barring a couple of years in high school dealing with the aftermath of a truly horrendous sides-shaved short haircut. It's about top-of-shoulder-blade-length, and the front is pulled back with a barrette. Sometimes it's in a pony tail. Very occasionally a french braid. Only when I'm considering hitting on people is it loose, which yes, I know, looks best, Mom.
In the past few months, the ladies at work have been eyeing me with "makeover" flashing in the thought bubble over their heads. It's kinda touching. Also, I've finally decided that, being as my goal is to have hair down to my butt, and being as doing nothing has been infallibly failing to achieve that goal, it's about time I started doing Something, instead.
Like trimming the ends. And, to mollify the ladies (so I don't get dragged somewhere and given a Peggy Sue Got Married look), might as well get a "style" while I'm at it.
I got a "People" magazine and studied it. Apparently the Style that's In now is long hair, parted (mostly offset, sometimes in the exact middle), a bit wavy, with a sort of sweeping diagonal down the front sides from about bottom-of-the-nose length (sometimes with bangs). I tore out a picture, and Saturday I brought it to Great Clips (my little sister said, "You're going to get a crappy haircut no matter where you go, so go someplace cheap").
I sat in the chair with my hair parted for the first time in about 15 years, staring at myself in the mirror. It was shorter than I'd expected (such is the Way of haircuts). I looked like Atreyu of the Plains People. I always think I look like Atreyu when my hair is at that length. I have a great Suburban Parks ID from a year after the Haircut of Woe in which I'm staring straight out with a dead-on grim "Ah?" Atreyu look...
"Do you mind if I use lazer?" asked the Asian hairstylist. "Um, sure, do whatever you like," I said, wondering where in the drawer she kept the power source. Instead, she pulled out a straight razor and began doing the curve-down-from-nose-level stuff on the sides of my hair, pulling it tight and then ftz-ftz-ftz. My hair, spritzed into stringiness, combed flat (though it yet refused to abandon all its waviness), partly over my eyes... As some shape appeared, a dry voice in my head said, I look like Snape. Yeah, I agreed, I really did, Alan Rickman as Snape. Nose isn't quite so big, though.
Snape, I could handle. But the trouble is, once my hair dried, released of weight it poofed up. In avoiding the 80s look, I had stepped directly into the 50s look. The horror! The horror!
The British Postdoc at work, though, said that it was a "dramatic improvement. Oh wait, that might be taken as insulting." Heh. I don't mind it that much, really; it's short enough that I might be able to continue to leave it loose, and thus maaaybe I'll be able to train myself to tolerate hair falling down into my face...
Now, though, I've got to go make a Jell-O mold with shrimp.
In the past few months, the ladies at work have been eyeing me with "makeover" flashing in the thought bubble over their heads. It's kinda touching. Also, I've finally decided that, being as my goal is to have hair down to my butt, and being as doing nothing has been infallibly failing to achieve that goal, it's about time I started doing Something, instead.
Like trimming the ends. And, to mollify the ladies (so I don't get dragged somewhere and given a Peggy Sue Got Married look), might as well get a "style" while I'm at it.
I got a "People" magazine and studied it. Apparently the Style that's In now is long hair, parted (mostly offset, sometimes in the exact middle), a bit wavy, with a sort of sweeping diagonal down the front sides from about bottom-of-the-nose length (sometimes with bangs). I tore out a picture, and Saturday I brought it to Great Clips (my little sister said, "You're going to get a crappy haircut no matter where you go, so go someplace cheap").
I sat in the chair with my hair parted for the first time in about 15 years, staring at myself in the mirror. It was shorter than I'd expected (such is the Way of haircuts). I looked like Atreyu of the Plains People. I always think I look like Atreyu when my hair is at that length. I have a great Suburban Parks ID from a year after the Haircut of Woe in which I'm staring straight out with a dead-on grim "Ah?" Atreyu look...
"Do you mind if I use lazer?" asked the Asian hairstylist. "Um, sure, do whatever you like," I said, wondering where in the drawer she kept the power source. Instead, she pulled out a straight razor and began doing the curve-down-from-nose-level stuff on the sides of my hair, pulling it tight and then ftz-ftz-ftz. My hair, spritzed into stringiness, combed flat (though it yet refused to abandon all its waviness), partly over my eyes... As some shape appeared, a dry voice in my head said, I look like Snape. Yeah, I agreed, I really did, Alan Rickman as Snape. Nose isn't quite so big, though.
Snape, I could handle. But the trouble is, once my hair dried, released of weight it poofed up. In avoiding the 80s look, I had stepped directly into the 50s look. The horror! The horror!
The British Postdoc at work, though, said that it was a "dramatic improvement. Oh wait, that might be taken as insulting." Heh. I don't mind it that much, really; it's short enough that I might be able to continue to leave it loose, and thus maaaybe I'll be able to train myself to tolerate hair falling down into my face...
Now, though, I've got to go make a Jell-O mold with shrimp.
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