I'm 37.
I guess I should back up.
Yesterday as I sat in the back row of church and analyzed the heads of women ahead of me, I again had the thought that someday I, too, would be an adult woman who got up every day and "did" my hair. Meaning, I guess, that I would use a blow drier, or curling iron, or flat iron (as if that would be remotely necessary) and have a style beyond, "Hey! I graduated in 1994, the year of the grunge!"
When the thought occurred to me, Well......I'm 37.
I'm not sure you get more grown up than you are when you are 37. Wiser, yes. But grown up? I don't think so. If I was going to do my hair, I would be doing it already. I'm going to quit lying to myself and let myself off the hook. I will probably never grow up and do my hair.
I cut 10 inches off a few weeks ago in honor of a friend in the throes of chemo. If I wanted a style, that would have been the time. I chose, instead, to tell her, "A style that doesn't require style."
Hello grunge, ole friend, ole pal.
3 comments:
I've been having similar thoughts looking at the backs of perfectly straightened & colored heads in the football stands. Newflash -- I'm graying and my hair will not cooperate with a straight iron. Whenever frizzy becomes the style, I'll be the envy of all the moms. Until then... not wasting the extra half hour of sleep to try to pull off being someone I'm not. Long live grunge.
I thought it looked nice when I saw you! I didn't know you cut it recently.
Just chop it all off like me:)
Mrs. B.
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