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Let's talk about hair, bay-bee...
Jan. 16th, 2005 04:48 pmI caught sight of myself in a mirror at Macy's this afternoon, and did a double-take. My hair = bad.
I've been growing it for years. And it's still only a little past my shoulders. I wore it short in high school and college, and then let it grow -- it was really long when Ben was born, and then I cut it short it again. I've been growing it out again since, in fits and starts. And now that I have...bleh.
It's superfine, although there is a lot of it, and it's been breaking and falling out like mad since Sara was born. If it's clean, it can be fairly bouncy, but as it is right now, it doesn't really move. It's just about all one length, and when I don't tuck it behind my ears, it just...falls. And then there's my high, huge forehead, like a frickin' beacon. The length seems to emphasize it, as well as the length of my face or something. Either way, when I caught sight of myself today unexpectedly, it was grim.
It's obscene how attached I can get to an idea even when everyone I know will tell me it's not going to work. When it comes to deadlines or taking extra freelance work, I can usually juggle and make it work. Time is much more fluid than hair, though. My hair is what it is, sadly, and no amount of daydreaming about this long, thick (well, duh), straight hair that I will magically be able to wear up and down and sideways, is going to make it happen. And with my forehead and the shape of my face, my face looks better when my hair is pulled up and away from it, which is why the short hair works better, I guess.
So I'm going to go for something layered, with angled bangs, and see what's what. If that's just meh, too, it's back to short. Short short. Run-your-fingers-through-it and tousle-it short.
And then we'll see if I can actually stop obsessing about it for two minutes at a time.
I've been growing it for years. And it's still only a little past my shoulders. I wore it short in high school and college, and then let it grow -- it was really long when Ben was born, and then I cut it short it again. I've been growing it out again since, in fits and starts. And now that I have...bleh.
It's superfine, although there is a lot of it, and it's been breaking and falling out like mad since Sara was born. If it's clean, it can be fairly bouncy, but as it is right now, it doesn't really move. It's just about all one length, and when I don't tuck it behind my ears, it just...falls. And then there's my high, huge forehead, like a frickin' beacon. The length seems to emphasize it, as well as the length of my face or something. Either way, when I caught sight of myself today unexpectedly, it was grim.
It's obscene how attached I can get to an idea even when everyone I know will tell me it's not going to work. When it comes to deadlines or taking extra freelance work, I can usually juggle and make it work. Time is much more fluid than hair, though. My hair is what it is, sadly, and no amount of daydreaming about this long, thick (well, duh), straight hair that I will magically be able to wear up and down and sideways, is going to make it happen. And with my forehead and the shape of my face, my face looks better when my hair is pulled up and away from it, which is why the short hair works better, I guess.
So I'm going to go for something layered, with angled bangs, and see what's what. If that's just meh, too, it's back to short. Short short. Run-your-fingers-through-it and tousle-it short.
And then we'll see if I can actually stop obsessing about it for two minutes at a time.
