When I was a teacher of middle school girls, a clever nugget of information was that “tell me about your hair…” is a great writing prompt to get even the most uninspired of adolescents to churn out a page or two. And, since a middle school girl is more or less who I am, I thought I’d take this conventional teachers’ wisdom and apply it to myself, in order to solicit what will be the first post after a long writing vacation. And so, my hair!
Let me spare you the sob story and just tell you right off the bat that in case you think I have nice hair now, you should know that it cost me dearly– 23 years of terrible, triangular, frizzy embarrassment to be exact. I don’t know if my hair hormones just suddenly shifted in a different way (which can happen, kind of) or if I finally got my head out of my ass and saw the layered light of day, but at some point I realized that as my hair grew longer, I was, at long last, entering an age of many new and coiffured possibilities.
One of these possibilities was to be able to proceed confidently — full speed ahead!– to the salons of Buenos Aires to see if they could do me up good. Some find the typical Argentine haircut ridiculous because it bears a rather striking resemblance to the Mullet. You know, shorty short short up top, long little strings on the bottom. And maybe it was because living in Williamsburg I had been in such close proximity to the hipster mullet that I’d been desensitized, or maybe it was because as a long, wavy haired girl I believe in the power of layers, but in any case, I was not deterred by the critics. And I chose a salon that had a really cool website, obvi.
Anyways, one haircut later, and I have to be honest- the results were middies. The short part on top was shorter than I wanted, and if I looked at myself quickly enough I would see either my mom’s haircut or myself really that cool. But the rulyness factor is still relatively high, so for now, everything’s pretty much copado with it. However, as I got ready to go out Saturday night, I looked in the mirror and was worried that it looked a little bit like the picture of Russell Brand that was in the Entertainment mag that Sara brought me during my writing hiatus.
Do you know who he is? He was in Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Which was an awesome movie, but bless his heart, that haircut of his has portena written all over it!
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