After I mentioned in a recent post that I was growing out my hair, I got comments, emails, even a text message along the lines of “Say it ain’t so, Ro!” [Note: please do not call me Ro.]
So allow me to explain myself.
The first, foremost, almost only reason I am growing out my hair is this:
This is what my hair actually looks like 85% of the time. It looks like that after:
- Wearing a hat
- Scratching my head
- Letting my wet hair dry without making sufficient effort to tame it
- Taking off a tight sweater
- Leaning back on the couch
- Thinking too hard
Now Collin and all the people nearest and dearest to me in life who tend to see me like that generally find my mad scientist look endearing, which is fine insofar as you don’t mind your husband thinking your appearance is “endearing” rather than “sexually attractive.”
And try as I might to work up the courage to leave the house looking like that, my vanity always gets to me. And unlike long messy hair that can be pulled into a ponytail or mid-length messy hair that can be subdued with a sufficient number of snap clips, most of the time getting my hair presentable again from this condition requires starting over with a wash and a blowdry.
So getting back the 40 minutes I used to spend shaping the curls in my long hair for special occasions feels like something of a Pyrrhic victory when I suddenly have to wash and dry my hair to go to the post office.
So that’s the main reason I want some length back in my locks (not nearly what I had pre-wedding, I’m thinking somewhere between chin and shoulders). The other, admittedly contradictory, reason is that I kind of MISS spending 40 minutes shaping my curls, or at least having the option to. I miss variety in my hair styles other than “messy” and “neat.” I’m terribly fickle when it comes to my hair.
Which is why you can bet your bottom dollar I’ll cut it all off again sometime in the next five years. So if you really are bereft that I’m going to grow out my pixie, just wait.