Spring Cleaning

Spring has sprung, my lovelies, and what better way to usher out the old than to sever your ties with it completely? That’s what I did yesterday, when I traded in two years (a whole terrier’s worth) of long hair for a sleek and modern wedge-shaped ‘do:

(All the better to match my powersuit with)

I’ve been wanting to cut my hair for about… oh… a whole year now, but it took me this long to actually find a somewhat decent place and book an appointment. (Not like I was actively searching for a place every day, though… it was more like me intermittently complaining about my more-and-more unwieldy mane, Marty saying ‘You should book a hair appointment’ in response to my said complaints every time, me procrastinating and eventually forgetting about my long hair angst, and then finally, me accidentally getting a kick in the ass to book an appointment one day, via a stylist trading card in a local coffee shop. Sometimes all it takes is a marketing gimmick and a substantial savings offer. Yes, I’m a sucker.)

Anyway, as somebody who chopped my own hair off for a good 4 or 5 years (think of the savings! And the DIY style!), I got a little anxious finding a professional stylist who could cut my hair in such a way that I didn’t need to slave over it for hours every day just to make it look passable. (I’m so low maintenance with my hair, I might as well be a wild animal of sorts—just roll over and go is the way I like it! Cowlicks are high fashion in my books.) So imagine the instant connection I made with Josh, who showed up for my appointment in teal eye makeup (My new favourite colour!), chatted nonstop about Madonna (My lifelong BFF!) while he cut my hair into ‘something new for spring’, but then didn’t flinch (at all!) when he handed me my bike helmet at the end and wished me a safe ride to work. (she sighs with platonic love for this wonder stylist!) I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to achieve this same sense of sleekness when I style the hair myself, but if all else fails, I’ve awakened my itchy scissor-fingers from their extended hibernation now, and I can always keep on hacking at it myself until I get back to square one. Josh, plug your ears and stop that rolling around in your pretend grave.