multicolored shirt (which is far from my character), tights & red shoes, all from Target; shorts, from Ross; necklace, from Forever21.
When I was a little girl, I wanted long hair. I felt that in order to be beautiful, it was a necessity. But of course, my hair didn’t grow in this way, & I did everything possible to create the illusion that I had long & lustrous hair; even if it meant wearing a towel on my head around the house. (Yes, I actually did this.) I was about 6 or 7 then, & my mother would always tell me that I looked silly, but I didn’t care. My vivid imagination allowed my dream of lengthy hair to come true, even if it was in the form of a dingy, blue bath towel.
I don’t remember the reason I decided to cut my hair as short as I did. Maybe it was because I wanted to break the chains that seemed to keep me in the state of mind that “long hair equals feminine.” Maybe I desired to believe that being an enticing woman wasn’t limited to long hair. Maybe I wanted to prove to myself (& others) that I could sport a short crop without feeling masculine or awkward. It was a random mix of emotions that provoked me to go pixie.
Four years ago, after peering at images of beautiful, talented women with pixie cuts, I gave it a go. Quite impulsively, I went to my dear neighbor — who cut my hair at the time — & said, “Cut it all off. I want it all gone, & I want it to look like this.” I was pointing to a picture of an amazingly stunning black girl with a very short, very funky faux-hawk. My neighbor was terrified & she did her best to try to talk me out of it. “Your hair!” she cried. “It’ll be so short! I don’t know if I can do that to you! What if you don’t like it? Oh no. I can’t, Ev’Yan.” But I was more than adamant. Truthfully, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into either, but I knew that if I continued to over analyze it enough, I would surely change m
y mind.
There is a powerful feeling that takes you over when you decide to cut your hair shorter. (Or it could be me.) Being a [ex]hairstylist, I know this feeling all to well & I felt it almost immediately upon the first slice. It was a cross between sheer excitement at my rebellious decision & uncertainty if I could make it work, even if it looked awful. But I realized that this cut was limited only to those who had enough confidence to show it off, & I wanted to be that someone. I realized, too, that this would also make me stick out like a purple thumb amongst all the blonde-haired, blue eyed girls in my little town. But I didn’t care. Cutting my hair off was one of the boldest things I have done to shape my appearance, because there is such a taboo surrounding hair & women. & while I loathe controversy, this is one instance that I truly enjoy going against the grain. I guess it’s obvious that I ended up absolutely adoring my new hairdo.
I wanted to list the women who dramatically changed the way I perceived short hair. Each one of them, in their own uniqueness, inspired me to chop all of my hair off & when I begin to feel low & out of place, they remind me of my own uniqueness & keep me grounded. Their beauty has proved to me that hair simply isn’t everything. Their confidence in making such a bold statement provokes me, entirely. In short, they are my muses.
Audrey Tautou.
Supermodel, Alek Wek. She makes me want to go bald.
Jean Seberg.
Leslie Caron.
Nia Long.
Selma Blair.
Halle Berry.
Mia Farrow.
Michelle Williams.
Maggie Gyllenhaal.
Natalie Portman, who also makes me want to go bald.
People always ask me if I’ll ever grow my hair out. My immediate answer, & still at the moment, is No. There are so many perks to having such short hair. It’s almost impossible to have a bad hair day; it’s much cooler in the summer time, & make scarves much more wearable in the winter; short hair is much easier to take care of, not to mention it rarely takes me over 10 minutes to style. How could I ever go back?
(this post reminded me much of my shameless man crushes.)