Lately I've been umm-ing and ah-ing over haircuts - what, where, when, how, etc. You see, a few weeks ago, in a fit of frustration at my lank and tangled locks, I hacked off an inch or so. And before I could finish it 'properly' (my hairdressing skills leave a lot to be desired), Anouk yelled out for a feed, and I haven't gotten back to it. It's currently choppy and uneven, but not in a good way.
So, after about five years of cutting my own hair (highlights include a half decent bob two years ago, and numerous fringes that look good when I cut them only to fall flat the next day), I'd decided to splash out and get a qualified professional to do it for me. I've been dreaming about the head massage, the nice-smelling products, the funny chat...and of course the easy-to-style, bouncy, polished haircut at the end of all that.
I was aiming for a fairly short style; my whole life I think the shortest it's ever been is 'bob', and I'd dearly love to be interesting and go...I don't know, Mia Farrow. Winona Ryder. Heck, Demi Moore in G.I.Jane. But then I happened upon a super cute pic of Lykke Li, hair up in a topknot:
Gorgeous, or what?! The messy topknot (or as T-Bone likes to call it, The Bobble) is my default hairstyle - quick, easy, hides a multitude of home-hairdressing sins - and I feel like it's been laughing at me from atop its lofty perch. "Haha," it cackles, "you look like you just got out of bed! Oh, you did! No time even to drag a brush through that bird's nest, then? Haha!" Evil, evil topknot. But Lykke has shown me that I needn't view it as nothing more than my default style. I should embrace it, and enjoy that it has no need for product, for heat-styling, for any large chunk of time to obtain it. Vive le Bobble!