Whenever I go to get my hair cut, people come from miles to look at the perfect condition of my hair. “Where are all the split ends?”, they cry! “How can it be so impossibly soft?” I just shrug my shoulders and say, “Aw, shucks, guys! Knock it off!”
If you would like to know my secrets, let me tell you my hair care routine:
1) Take a bath and use fair trade shea butter shampoo.
2) Brush hair for approximately 2 seconds.
3) Let air dry while you take a nap and/or go to sleep.
4) Wake up.
5) Put hair in a bun.
That’s right. For really special occasions, I will brush my hair after it is dry. In fact, a few weeks ago, I went all out and wore my hair down and brushed it. I had to re-introduce myself to students, as they were wondering who the silken-haired goddess was.
I’ve never had good luck with hair, really. When I was little, I would chew on the hair directly adjacent to my face, leaving long, juicy, wet tendrils to slap you in the face when I kissed you too vigorously. Finally, my mom gave me an ultimatum- Quit chewing on your hair or it gets chopped off.
Enter: The Mullet Bowl Haircut
I rocked that for a few years more than I should have and then I developed a look that I like to call…THE BUTT HEAD. Parted straight down the middle. Oh, middle school…I was so clueless I didn’t even know to be embarrassed.
I had that all through high school. And then…right before I went to college, I decided to get a big girl hair cut. You guys, it had shape! It had a side part! I didn’t have a BUTT HEAD hair cut anymore!
So, in college, my hair was very on point. I was able to wear it down without spending more than about 2 minute getting ready. I could air dry it and it looked presentable. Granted, the College Station humidity did some funky things, but it was nothing that I wasn’t able to tame with a few bobby pins and a headband.
I’ve had some variation of that haircut since that fateful summer before college (so that would be about 10 years). About a year ago, I started growing my hair out because I have developed a slight obsession with low side ponytails. They may or may not be the cutest thing on God’s green earth. I’m also preparing my hair for my eventual dreadlocks.
Over Christmas break, I went to get my hair cut before my family took pictures and my friend who cuts my hair convinced me to get bangs. I had been flipping my pony tail over my face to see what I would look like with bangs for about six months but with her encouragement, I took the leap.
I need you to understand the seriousness of this step. There might be… straightening and blow drying to make them look right. Before we made the decision, sweet Katie made sure I knew that bangs were kind of a serious commitment because she knows my no-nonsense, non-care, hair care routine.
I’ve felt quite fashionable since then. Bangs look super cute with headbands and buns and ponytails and all the things that I like. I was even able to keep my hair care routines in place…until last Friday.
Several times, we’ve had to trim them, which falls outside my “haircut every six months” rule. I roped my poor husband into doing it, which was not a good idea because, before starting, we “discussed” at length the proper bang cutting procedure. Alex would cut millimeters off at a time. I would insist that he had done it wrong and he would insist that it looked exactly the same. I finally went to a Supercuts and paid $5 for a professional, but they still weren’t as good as Katie’s. That might be the cause of all my problems.
April has been one of the longest months of my life. There were only about 4 days when we didn’t have something on the calendar and there were a few weekends where we had more than 4 social events to attend or host. My hair finally gave up, apparently. On Friday, after I had finished all my school work and we had all the testing/parties/planning done at work, I worked out, took a bath, and then took a long nap while my hair was drying.
When I woke up, I discovered that I had…A COWLICK. The right quarter of my bangs were now suddenly not cooperating. They were pretending that I had blow-dried them out like an 1980s school picture. I didn’t have time to do anything about it, so I just tried to cover them up as best I could, except that I actually ended up looking like a character out of Grease.
On Saturday, we were busy so my slept on cow lick got worse and worse. At about 2:00, it looked as if an imaginary personal assistant was holding a tiny fan on the right side of my face. My cowlick had gone full-out rogue. I mean, sticking straight in the air, something-is-seriously-wrong-with-that-girl, does-she-look-in-the-mirror? rogue. I actually ended up trying to wear my headband over my eyes so that I looked like a character from Star Trek. Yes, that was better than letting my hair do it’s natural thing. I don’t have a picture because, strangely, no one asked to take a picture of me….
Yesterday, I had our annual “Student Recognition Ceremony” at work and so I needed to get all gussied up. For those of you who don’t know me, that means I wear a dress and my once-a-year-high-heels. Unfortunately, that also now means trying to tame my stupid cowlick with some water and a straightener. It behaved itself mostly, except that when I straighten my bangs, they want to split right down the middle of my forehead and give me some late-twenties variation of THE BUTT HEAD. I’ve told my friends that they are now responsible for telling me if my bangs have chosen to part ways or the right quarter looks like it’s waving goodbye.
Maybe the time for dreads has come more quickly than I previously thought…