Excesssive ruliness

[kate_schaefer]

Most of my adult life, I've had long hair. It grows fast, and it looks pretty good. I spent my youth wearing the same pixie cut as every other little girl with mother-cut-hair in the fifties and sixties, and I hated it. Once I was able to control the length of the hair, it wasn't getting cut without a good reason. There was that one haircut in 1974 to get rid of the hair that Mr. Bad Idea had run his hands through, but really, that was a good reason, I assure you.

The good reasons generally have to do with back problems these days, since bad boyfriends are a lot of years into my past now. Long hair doesn't create the back problems, but once the back (or neck or shoulder) hurts, the hair can exacerbate things. It gets caught between my back and the back of a chair, or it's tiring to brush, or (with rotator cuff issues) I have a hard time reaching back to braid it.

A few weeks ago, I had to get Glenn to braid my hair because my shoulder hurt so much. That Sunday, I got it cut off and sent 20 inches to Wigs for Kids. I grow my hair so I can have long hair, because I like having long hair, not to be a hair farm, but I've donated the stuff five times now. That haircut looked pretty good, very short in the back, about 2 inches on top, with just enough irregularity to be soigné.

As so often happens with good-looking haircuts, it looked fine until the next day, when I got up with the flat spot on the side of my head. No problem. I soaked my head and ran my fingers through the hair, and it looked okay again. A few hours later, I saw the resurgent flat spot in the mirror. Water and fingers, okay-looking hair.

Three weeks of that, and I'm done with the stylish haircut. I'm spending more time on my hair than I did when it was two feet long. I go to Rudy's and get it buzzed. Now my hair stays in place at all times. It's a little severe, but it makes a great summer style, as long as I remember to wear a hat to keep from getting sunburned.

Comments

[holyoutlaw.livejournal.com]

I hope I recognize you!

One time Ken Fletcher went clean shaven to a party at Karen and Garth's (in the 80s) and NOBODY recognized him.

But I don't think your change in appearance is that drastic.

[kate-schaefer.livejournal.com]

I think I'm still recognizably me, yes. My hair closely resembles Riley's hair, last time I saw him, or your hair, any random time about two weeks after you've been buzzed. I asked for 3/4"; the cutter at Rudy's used the longest guard she had, but it looks like about 1/2" to me.

I didn't recognize Fred Haskell when he shaved in 1979. He turns out to have Cary Grant's cleft chin under that beard, so I thought he was some handsome man I didn't know rather than some handsome man I knew reasonably well.

[singingnettle.livejournal.com]

When I met my now-husband, he had a huge beard and mustache and hair down to his waist and looked like a nicer version of Charles Manson. Then while I was back east on a family emergency, he shaved his beard and mustache. When he opened the door, beaming, I just stood and looked at him blankly because I had no idea who he was. For that second he looked just devastated.

I had the same experience with a housemate I dearly loved. I literally didn't recognize him.

Some people with beards and mustaches just look like themselves, with long hair; and others, like your friend with the cleft chin, look like completely different people.

I suppose that might be true of some women when they cut their hair drastically, but since most women don't have full beards and mustaches, I think men have a bit of an edge in the different-identity thing.

I once had a dream in which a bunch of my female friends were sporting neat little mustaches. Once I got used to it, they really looked perfectly nice. :-> It's just a matter of convention, what we do with our hair.