The Kindest Cut

On Saturday, Monkey and I finally got our hairs cut. We had needed an appointment for quite some time, but my stylist was traveling in Hong Kong for three weeks. More than a cut, I really needed color — my hair was especially dry, for one thing; the grays were creeping back, for another; and for a third, I was losing my fondness for being a redhead. And DearDR wanted a trim, too.

Here’s a little photo essay.
Before the Cuts:

Leopard Sisters:

Quote from Monkey, “Are you taking out the white, Mommy?” I didn’t think my gray hair was quite that noticeable. Thank you, Monkey.

Quote from my stylist, to Monkey, “Don’t worry, you can give her some more in just a minute.”

After, Monkey:

You can finally see her eyes again! I like the length on the sides and in the back, too.

Monkey has very pretty hair, straight, shiny, and soft (we use conditioner). On her last visit, my mom commented on how pretty her hair was. Then added, “Your hair was never that nice.”

Gee, thanks, Mom.

“No, but it wasn’t,” she said defensively. “You always had a kink or a wave in it. It just didn’t lay nice.”

Hence, short hair for me. Since about eighth grade.

Mommy, After I:

My stylist overruled you all. Sorry. When I showed him the blog post, he laughed heartily (and my stylist has a seriously hearty laugh — he’s about 6’5″) and said, “Like this is a democracy.” He pointed to 3. “That’s what we’re doing.” I said that most everyone who had commented really liked 2. “I know I need to grow it –” I started.

My stylist interjected: “Look, that is a great cut for you. But Monkey and Bun will be in college before your hair is that long.” (I think he was exaggerating.) “We’re going to start here [# 3] so you can eventually get there [# 2].”

Mommy, After II:

This is how it looks after my stylist does my hair. I may ask to go darker next time.

And, yes, that is my kitchen and dining room. My stylist comes to my house.

Mommy, After III:

The Zoolander pose. Does my nose look big?

This is what it looks like after I style my hair myself.

And finally, Mommy, After IV:

Thought to myself, “At least smile a little, woman!” It’s hard taking pictures in a mirror.

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