Snip, Snip, Sniffle, Sniffle
The scissors weren't sharp. Not even a little bit. But I didn't care. I did my beauty shop best to cut a straight line through a hefty hank of my wet hair, shhhhkggghk, and felt an odd sense of satisfaction at seeing brownblondered strands fall into the sink. A few more hacks and I moved to the opposite side, emboldened by a glass of red wine, now half empty and perched rather precariously on the sink's edge. In my head? Pat Benetar's Love is a Battlefield (whoa-oh-whoa-oh-whoa-oh-whoaaaa....)and a heady, (or was it the wine?) palpable need for change. NOW.
I surveyed the scene. Bathroom in Berkeley. Housemates gone. My 14-year-old first, only, and much-beloved car, whacked this afternoon by a landscaping truck, now languishing in a bodyshop. Me, raccoon-eyed from crying and slightly tipsy, staring into the mirror and asking, "How much is enough?" That question seemed far too open-ended to ponder, so I decided to even up my lopsided 'do, hoping to restore some sense of equilibrium.
What drives women to take up the scissors when things get desperate? What fuels bang mutilation, slasher-style re-coiffing? Ask the gal at work with the 80s style asymetrical bob and she might answer, a) my dog died, b) my S.O. dumped me, c) my car got totaled by a crazed landscaping truck, d) I got fired, or, e) some combination thereof -- and I'm trying to regain control.
Aha! Bingo! I'm convinced that giving ourselves a shearing, however slight (yes, it still counts, even if you use those tiny little manicure scissors) represents the desire to return power to ourselves, to restore order, to wield the sword, as it were. Sound counter-intuitive? Yeah, well, then you're probably a guy. We girls know that sometimes all you need is a little snip-snip-sniffle-sniffle and then you're ready to get back in the game. Unless, of course, you managed to finish the bottle of vino in the process. Then you're probably gonna have to call in a pro, and pony up $80 and an hour in the chair before you can comfortably exit the house again. So don't get too carried away.
Any of you women out there with a life, hair, and scissors story to tell? I'm thinking of compiling our trying-times-cum-new-image tales. I've taken to hanging out at Nomad Cafe on Shattuck and 65th. Stop by and say hello. I'll be the one with the crooked bangs.
I surveyed the scene. Bathroom in Berkeley. Housemates gone. My 14-year-old first, only, and much-beloved car, whacked this afternoon by a landscaping truck, now languishing in a bodyshop. Me, raccoon-eyed from crying and slightly tipsy, staring into the mirror and asking, "How much is enough?" That question seemed far too open-ended to ponder, so I decided to even up my lopsided 'do, hoping to restore some sense of equilibrium.
What drives women to take up the scissors when things get desperate? What fuels bang mutilation, slasher-style re-coiffing? Ask the gal at work with the 80s style asymetrical bob and she might answer, a) my dog died, b) my S.O. dumped me, c) my car got totaled by a crazed landscaping truck, d) I got fired, or, e) some combination thereof -- and I'm trying to regain control.
Aha! Bingo! I'm convinced that giving ourselves a shearing, however slight (yes, it still counts, even if you use those tiny little manicure scissors) represents the desire to return power to ourselves, to restore order, to wield the sword, as it were. Sound counter-intuitive? Yeah, well, then you're probably a guy. We girls know that sometimes all you need is a little snip-snip-sniffle-sniffle and then you're ready to get back in the game. Unless, of course, you managed to finish the bottle of vino in the process. Then you're probably gonna have to call in a pro, and pony up $80 and an hour in the chair before you can comfortably exit the house again. So don't get too carried away.
Any of you women out there with a life, hair, and scissors story to tell? I'm thinking of compiling our trying-times-cum-new-image tales. I've taken to hanging out at Nomad Cafe on Shattuck and 65th. Stop by and say hello. I'll be the one with the crooked bangs.
posted by WurdGurl at 2:26 PM
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