Monday, August 22, 2011

Growing out my horrible pixie cut. Or why I became an alchoholic.

By the way I'm not an alchoholic (how the HELL do you spell that?) lol and never have been.  Considered it?  But unfortunately I'm far too poor for that kind of habit.

So. In January I did the unthinkable.  I cut off all my hair.  All of it.  Notice my long pretty hair in this pic.  This is generally how I keep my hair.

Well one day I was bored and apparently got bitten by the stupid bug and decided to do something like this.  I brought my trusty laptop to my hairdresser and said "do this".  "Are you SURE???? She asked" Yep, chop it all off.  I'm pretty sure a field sobriety and a psychological evaluation should be required before any stylist agrees to doing such a thing.  But she listened like a good stylist and the next thing I know all my hair is in a pony tail and being cut off at the skull.

$80 later and I walked out of the salon and home to the shock of my family members.  "It's cute" my husband said after the shock had worn off enough so he could speak.  I didn't successfully regain my ability to speak for quite some time.  I promptly went on ebay and made sure to click expedited shipping.  Enter the wig stage.    Wearing the wig are the only pictures you will find of me during this stage as I sobbed like a small child everytime I took it off.

I spent hours and hours and hours scouring the internet for something that could help.  I considered extensions which my stylist assured me would only result in me having a mullet something like this with the length my hair was at the moment.

I read tips online, trim, don't trim, take herbal supplements and prenatal vitamins to make it grow faster.  Put a paper bag over your head and sob uncontrollably.  There is no fix for a pixie cut but time.  Lots and lots of time.  I tried baseball caps which only proved to make me look like an ugly boy, I tried headbands which looked as bizarre as the hair did, I tried clips which would fall out since my hair was so short.  I cried, I kicked, I screamed, I drank vodka.  Finally I decided I would ditch the wig and just let it grow and try not to look in any mirrors and avoid cameras if possible.  Unfortunately some pictures were taken.  I'm not proud of them and will laugh at them some day but for now the sting is still fresh.

The "you look like Hannah Montana's grandma" phase (above) as my kids named it.  Pass the vodka.
And the "omg I have a strange growth trying to come out of the back of my head and wtf is wrong with my mullet?" phase.  Make it a double.

And here I am now.  It's been 8 months and I'm finally at the "I guess I can sober up a little now so I don't burn myself with the flat iron" phase.

My friends, the pixie cut looks great on Halle Berry.  It doesn't look great on most women and you won't know until you chop every strand of hair an inch from your head.   If you decide to get one do 3 things first.  Grab some whiskey, picture yourself, while growing it out like some twisted version of Billy Ray Cyrus for months, and find a stylist who will slap the shit out of you and refuse to take your money until you get professional help.

If you've gotten the pixie already.  Call me, come over, and bring Vodka.

1 comment:

Momof4monkeys said...

Sorry but the way you worded this has me giggling hysterically right now. I desperately needed that today so thanks hun :)