Three months since my last trim, and my hair has officially gone back to the 1980s.
I had thick, curly, wavy hair that hit just above shoulder-length prior to lock down. It is now past shoulder length and big. Pouffy, large, teased-out and not happy about it. And by big, I mean big on its own accord. I have pick-style combs, but no need for them. My hair is just Valley Girl-sized without help.
It’s always been this way, though in years past, the color has been different. Once upon a time, the natural color was a dark brown shading to black. Gray strands set in early and I covered that with burgundy dye, which happened to look quite good. But pretty soon, the gray began to overtake the brown too fast to keep up. I did the overall dye job for years, until it became a pain to spend that much time and money in a professional colorist chair. And no, this is one job I am not doing on my own, despite the drugstore products and online offerings promising me the same results. This is one situation where I think the pros really know best.
At this point, the gray and brown are fairly evenly matched, and I’m fine with it. I’d like that haircut, but don’t think I need to risk my health and safety for it. I did trim my own bangs, and was surprised not to trim off anything else, like my eyelashes, eyebrows or ears when I completed the job. I think more people should consider the do-it-yourself quarantine ‘do, rather than protesting their state government with signs like “Give Me A Haircut Or Give Me Death!” and “I’ll Take My Chances, Free My Stylist!” as if not having a haircut for awhile signals a horrible event in their lives, on par with homelessness or starvation. Do the people complaining about not eating at a restaurant, going to a beach or a mall for two or three months understand that these are not rights, and the friends and families of the 100,000 lost to the pandemic in this country would gladly give up a haircut—and a lot more—to get those loved ones back?
Old Is Serious...Aging Is Hilarious 