So recently I was going through some photos on my phone and then I went through some photos on my husband’s phone and in all of the pictures I am in, my hair is doing this weird side part swoopy 80s thing. You know, the kind of up-and-over that Julia Roberts made famous way back in the day? (Btw, I had the most excellent Julia Roberts hair when I was 19 – I mean I was killing it with the long wavy perm. That’s probably been the only time in my life when my hair has been in peak form.)
Want proof? Here ya go:
See? Told ya.
After seeing so many pictures of so much forehead, I decided I needed a drastic change. I let the idea float around in my head for a couple of days, then one night as I was getting ready for bed I decided that I needed that change NOW. I could not wake up the next morning and face the indignity of hair that mocks me. So I did what any mature, rational woman does: I cut myself some bangs.
Now, the fact that my hairstylist literally lives right next door did not sway me from my mission. The fact that I have yet to tell said neighbor what I did to my bangs might give you an indication of how skilled I am at cutting my own bangs. It didn’t turn out awful, and I actually kind of like how it looks, but I need my hairstylist to clean them up a bit. She’s probably going to laugh at me but oh well, we’ll laugh together. And I have been told by my BFF that the time to call her during emergencies such as this is when I have scissors in hand when she can still talk me down off the ledge, not after when I’ve already jumped. Duly noted.
So yay I have bangs now!