Sharpredpencil’s Weblog

Sometimes Change Is Not Good

I got the Worst Haircut Ever last night. Please excuse me if I go hide under a rock for 6-8 weeks until it grows out. (Or longer. Oh, no, please don’t let it be longer.)

I had a moment of weakness. I went in for a normal trim. My hairdresser was busy with the client before me, so I had a few minutes to browse the magazines. (Why, oh, why did I have to choose the one hairstyle magazine on the table? Why not Florida Design? Why not Women’s Health?!?) I saw a super-cute style on a super-cute model and asked my hairdresser what she thought of it. I thought it was modern and fresh and would look good on my 20-something self. She thought it was GREAT and would look FABULOUS on me and CHANGE is GOOD. I took the plunge. Five minutes into the cut I knew I was doomed.

It looks like a boy haircut. A boy’s shaggy, long mop of a haircut. On my head. I traded in a sleek, sophisticated bob for a boy mop.

I know this isn’t the first Worst Haircut Ever (it’s sort of a rite of passage for all women, isn’t it?), and it won’t be the last. But, gosh, it’s painful right now.

I’m off to go take my vitamins and buy some headbands.