The summer before 5th grade I got a haircut that, 14 year later, continues to haunt me. I’d always had long hair, but wanted it cut to look like an older girl on my swim team whom I thought was so cool. Older Swim Team Girl had an I’m-cooler-than-all-of-you attitude, which fit because she really was cooler than all of us. (Well, cooler than ME, anyway.) Her hair was cut to about chin length and I wanted my hair to look exactly like hers, which logically would make me as cool as her.
Somehow, both my mom and the butcher stylist interpreted “chin length” to mean, “Let’s give poor Jenny a boy’s haircut that will haunt her for the rest of her life.”
Seriously, my hair was cut exactly like a boy’s. It was such a boy’s haircut, that I was OFTEN confused for a boy.
Setting: Skating party, Fall 1985, a game of Red Light, Green Light set to the always popular roller rink band, ELO.
Skating rink DJ: “And the winner is….The boy in the back!”
Me: “I’m not a boy!”
Because of this experience, I try to be VERY specific when I describe how I want my hair cut. I take pictures of people whose hair I’d like to replicate to show the stylist. I discuss and show how many inches I’d like to be cut, or rather how many inches I’d rather NOT be cut.
Which brings us to my latest haircut.
Oh sure, it doesn’t really look bad, but it doesn’t look like the picture I showed and it certainly isn’t the “don’t cut it up to my chin, like in the picture I’m showing you, cut maybe an inch or less” haircut that I requested.
I know that in discussing the photo I brought to show my stylist, I used very specific words like, “NOT as short as hers.” And “one inch at the most.” And other gems like “I want the ends to look JUST LIKE THIS, but NOT as short.” I even held in my fingers, the acceptable amount that she could cut off.
In the end, my stylist ended up cutting about two inches off around my face and about three inches off the back.
When she finished and turned my chair towards the mirror, she said, “You know, I could have totally cut it up to your chin. You could have really pulled that hairstyle off.”
That silence you’re detecting? It’s me staring and blinking.
Curious about whose hair I was trying to replicate?
Go here. (The photo that I showed my stylist is no longer the photo that is posted. FYI.) (In fact, there’s really no need to click on the link unless you’re just curious about Dooce’s current hairstyle.)
I can’t put my finger on it, but admitting that I tried to get Dooce’s haircut makes me feel kind of pathetic.
(Edited to add: I fixed the picture problem and all the grammar mistakes. GEEZ LOUISE this post is a train wreck.)