You hear it all the time – the grass is greener on the other side.
When it comes to hair.
Chicks and hair man. There’s a constant battle for ya. A struggle. A war. A fight. Do you put them up, pull them back, keep em loose or just shave ’em off altogether? Do you need hairpins, a hairband, bows, a scrunchy or one of the 5 million other options? Do you dye it, or stay natural?
Jezus fucking christ – the choices are never ending.
But there is no battle greater than that between straight hair and curls. Go sit down in a group of girls and INEVITABLY at some point during any night the topic WILL arrive at straight versus curls. There’s no other option. It will happen.
Because at some point some girl will get complimented on her hair and the other camp will start lamenting.
The straight haired minxes will drawl ‘Ohhhh my gaaaawd I wish I had curls like yours. My hair is so bland and just stringyyyy‘ or the curly goddesses will cry out ‘Man I wish my hair was straight because look at this frizZy mess. Took me an hour to even get it dry and look at it now! Straight hair is the BEST!’
NO MATTER what happens – any girl with any type of hair will (at some point) express that need to switch sides. It’s a rite of passage. The straight want CURLS and the curls want desperately to get straight hair.
I do it all the time. I hate my curls. Hate ’em.
Passionately, I might add.
Not just because they’re a lot of work, and I shed like a dog and because the weather has more grip on ’em than I do. But mostly because I didn’t get the beautiful curly curls that people DO actually have a right to be jealous on – but some fruity, fuzzy, semi-exploded yet semi-straight not-really-curls curls. None of the added volume and beauty. All of the added chaos and mess. So I hate ’em.
Which is in stark contrast to the people constantly telling me to keep them. Not straighten my hair. Not pull it back in a pony tail or hide it under caps. Because curls (IN GENERAL, bitches) are pretty. Or they soothe my resting bitch face or –insert other curly reasons-
THEY JUST DON’T GET THE HORROR THOUGH.
So today for the first time post-corona-lockdown – I am taking my ass to the hairdressers. That’s always a challenge for me because I only leave there having done 1 of 2 things:
1. Barely anything. Take off the tippiest of tips and make me pay top dollar for people not to notice I even went.
2. Go crazy. Dye it bright red. Cut it short. Do something to it that makes my visit undeniable and be sure to ruin my hair for the six months to come.
It’s taken me two years to get to this current length but my curls are currently breaking from being pulled back too harshly and just being a general unhealthy mess. PLUS I’m still short 1 dramatic hair-augmentation that belongs with any break-up (gotta getchu outta my hair!). Can you guess what option it’s probably gonna be yet?
But…But….But….(-straighthaired girls sighing around the world-) the curls…
FUCK THE CURLS.
Or not. I’m not sure. It’s a conundrum.
I kinda wanna go powerwoman Mohawk short (but that’s kinda ruined because that would’ve actually pleased the ex AND will probably ruin chances of finding a non-ex) and I kinda wanna have pretty long locks.
So I’ma let my new hairdresser in my never-before-seen-because-I-just-moved-here salon decide today. Start the 3 hour countdown to new hair!
LIVING ON THE EDGE!
My hairdresser turned out to be an insane curllover so she refused to cut it short. Aka. Say hello to THE POOFINESS!