Chopping Spree

Sometimes I feel as though I should not be allowed near scissors. Particularly when I'm feeling restless with my hair.

I had vague thoughts of shaving it all off next year for the Greatest Shave, which I thought would be all the more impressive if it was quite long. And, typically, if I feel bound to something I turn and flee in the opposite direction. I couldn't even wait for my hairdresser friend to do it properly, so I hacked it off while my brother T-Bone held a mirror.

The (radically uneven) result:






The bob only lasted a week - it needed a blowdry to look halfway decent, and of course there was the issue of unevenness. I'd been itching to go all gamine and Jean Seberg*, but at the last minute I lost my nerve and went for something a tad longer. It's times like these that I am profusely glad to be living in The Age Of The Internet**, as it makes spying on girls with cute hair so much easier. I picked Argentinian model Milagros Schmoll as my hair idol:




Despite fears that I would resemble a clunky milkmaid next to her exotic, rake-thin boyishness, it didn't turn out too badly. And, might I add, WHY HAVEN"T I CUT MY HAIR THIS SHORT BEFORE?! The ease with which I can wash, dry and artfully manipulate my newly-docile tresses is luxurious.


(Apologies for the poor choice of facebook photo. Oh dear.)

*actually, I may go shorter still - I'm more than a little obsessed with La Seberg.

**to be honest, I can't really think of any occasion where I have been unhappy with The Age Of The Internet.

Hair-brained

Gargh, what a ditz I am. This is why:

Wonderful Eco-Chic-Mummy from one of my favourite blogs, Hippie on the Inside, recently posted about having a Buy Nothing July. As someone who gets as much of a kick out of being frugal as I do buying something nice (how does that even work?!), and who finds the idea of compacting immensely appealing, I thought, "By golly, maybe I could give it a go, too!".

So today, Baboushka and I had lunch in town with my mum and my brother T-Bone, and afterward we all decided to go for a quick peek at our favourite op-shop. I ended up finding some treasures (to be posted once photos are taken), and felt like quite the clever little thrifter. I remembered Buy Nothing July, and thought to myself, "Hey! Lucky I got that in before July!" and had the brainwave to go and book the haircut I've been thinking about having for months. Actually, years - I haven't had a haircut in about 4 years.

I've been feeling so very excited about this haircut - the scalp massage! The smell of hairdressers' products! The flattering lights! The free coffees! The glossy magazines! All so la-dee-dah. Not to mention the nice, hopefully manageable hairstyle at the end of it all. I've been cutting my own hair with rusty kitchen scissors for 4 years (occasionally using a nail-clipper to trim errant chunks <-- this is such a bad idea) and letting a professional take over will be a nice change.

But I've just noticed that today is actually the first of July. I don't know what day I thought it was (knowing the date is not currently one of my strong points), but July was not it.


*sad face*


Maybe I should make this July more of a 'Compacting July', seeing as I've already kind of mangled my attempt?

PS: Or maybe I should actually say no to the haircut? I can't decide what to do with this mop - the 'safe' part is leaning towards something Uma-esque, but the slightly-less-safe Iris is incurably drawn to a Seberg-style crop...

Bobble-head

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!