Well, I’ve bloody done it and there’s no going back now!
Last night, as I was flicking through my latest copy of British Vogue, I was finally persuaded into doing something I previously never had the stomach for.
I cut my own hair. Sounds dramatic, but really I created a heavy temple-to-temple fringe hoping to achieve that ‘I-don’t-give-a-f@*k’ styling steeped in irony that (exceptionally wealthy) fashion trendzoids pull off.
The first snip was nerve-wracking, but then I knew I had to commit. Stopping now meant that there would be no other outcome than wearing my Fedora everyday for a few weeks. I kept checking the article, re-reading the tips in the hope that whatever I was doing was right. The first pair of scissors I used were blunt and kept pushing the hair from between the blades. The result was a slightly graduated, hacked mess. Vogue says this is not what you want. You want JUST a hacked mess. Apparently, to the rest of the world this shows you have balls of steel when it comes to personal style. As much as I know my style, what works and what doesn’t, my old-school grooming habits leave me feeling torn between a neat hairdresser cut and this DYI version. But hell! That’s why I am doing this in the first place. I feel too stiff, too groomed. I want to appear less rigid and more fun. Surely a home-cut with my second, not-so-blunt, pair of scissors will be just the thing to give me an air of arrogant youth and womanly flair?
So at once, brimming with confidence and trepidation, the latter kicks in and I remember why I haven’t done this before:
1. I am not a qualified hairdresser. If Picasso had painted his abstract works without mastering technique first, he wouldn’t have been able to create the chaos of his later works. Chaos, like a hacked haircut requires consummate skill.
2. Hairdressers have always warned me, heavy fringes require heavy attention. Unless you are blessed with thick, straight hair, or a personal hairdresser who follows you everywhere, bangs’ll be high maintenance. Which leads me to my next point.
3. My hair type. I have a cowlick and natural wave. Let me picture the scene. If a touch of water hits my hair, my hair curls, frizzes and my hair ends up looking like a cross between Pippy Longstocking and the horns of a buffalo.
Needless to say, these three fundamental points were pooh-poohed by me in the quest for achieving perfectly imperfect hair. I would get Alexa-style tresses if it killed me. Or maybe not.
I sliced through and the end result, although not quite styled messy perfection, is fine. I think I may have to keep practising, but now that I have made the leap this could be the way forward. Next, perfecting the self-styled messy plait… Quite enjoying the beginning of thrifty beauty.
Have a great weekend peeps.