December: It was the longest my hair had been in years and I wasn't sure what to do with it. I saw photos of myself and the long bangs and layers left a lot to be desired. My face looked long, my hair lacked that specific something I'd been looking to achieve, so I headed to the salon. Leaving with a not-so-great and pretty boring cut I was left to figure out what to do next. I had some ideas but wasn't sure about the execution. Where to go? What inspiration to bring? I knew what I wanted, but would it suit me? Then along came yesterday.
Give me a Godard film and I'll melt like your favorite lipstick on a hot summer's day. My heart beats for that stuff. I yearn to be so effortlessly chic and cool; the hair, the makeup, everything. I wasn't blessed enough to have been born in the 60's in the midst of the new wave movement, I'm no Parisienne (yet), but I'll be damned if I can't try to achieve that hair.
I head to the salon with a knot in my chest because while I know it won't be drastic, I know it'll be different from what it's been the last 3 years of my life. However this time, it will be exactly what I've craving those past three years. I show my new stylist a few photos and we get to talking, she gets it, I'm feeling good. After a cup of licorice tea, a scalp massage and a good 'ol washing, the scissors appeared and bit by bit my longish locks fell to the floor. An hour later I had -2 inches of the length and bangs. At first I was pretty shocked because it was so different to me. An hour after? Unsure/slight regret/help. Six hours later? I'm eating swiss + butter and bouncing around to this.
I've finally achieved my one hair goal. The hair goal. While I may not be perfectly channeling Françoise, it's enough for me and I'm in love.