growing out a pixie cut is the worst

I know you’re all dying for an update on my hair.

Last summer I trimmed my pixie for the “last” time. It was the last cut before the great grow out, the final feast before the epic quest. I braced myself for the days of graceless hair ahead, but I had no idea of the trials that would befall me in winter. No idea at all.

In my defense, I trimmed the mullet along the way. I knew that much from pinterest, but not even mullet trimming can prepare you for the ear-length-bob-now-I-look-like-a-Bob months. That’s right. Months. The hairs (all of them) beg to be pulled back into a half-updo, yet cannot reach the clip. The agony!

What they said–no idea who “they” are–is true: growing out a pixie cut is one of the worst experiences in the world. Growing out a pixie cut should warrant some sort of major award. Off the top of my head, I’m thinking automatic stellar hair-days forever or a year’s supply of Propel water. (Am I the only one still drinking those things?)

Growing out a pixie cut requires a six-month hiatus from mirrors.

Growing out a pixie is like carrying the One Ring across Middle Earth to be destroyed in Mordor. I took on this impossible mission and began the trek.

But then February came, and like Frodo, I failed. I got to the edge of the Cracks of Doom, but couldn’t complete my task.

In other words, I got my hair cut on Saturday.

I even had a stylist (Sauron? Gollum?) that said, “I wouldn’t keep your natural color. It’s kind of dead mouse brown,” and then she washed my hair. “What I’m putting on your hair is called shampoo. You should try it sometime.”

I’m not kidding. But I think she was?

Then I stepped out of the salon (Mount Doom) with cut hair. Short hair. Looks-like-I-never-beared-THE-ONE-RING hair.

Oh, well. The good thing about short hair (one of the many) is the reminder that it’s just hair.

Maybe next time I decide to grow it out I’ll keep that in mind. For now, I’ll just enjoy making it stick up in weird ways.

hair

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pixie disasters

Here’s the thing about short hair, about having a pixie cut: there are times when you cannot pull it off. There are times when you lack the self-confidence, the hair gel, or the time it takes to shower, to properly rock the pixie.

In those most desperate of times, you don’t even like yourself anymore.  No, you are a caricature, a man, a smelly mother of twins, or sometimes all three.  It is a sad day, and unfortunately it occurs at least once a week (for me, anyway).  There are unique manifestations to each pixie failure.  Here are the horrendous looks that no pixie wearer can escape.

 

The Paul Dano in Ruby Sparks

This occurs when the androgynous look goes horribly, horribly wrong.  Imagine you let your hair air dry without any product.  You want the sort of sleek, touchable look.  You’ll wear extra makeup and collared shirt. It will be edgy, but you’ll totally pull it off, like this lady. 17-pixiehair01-073

But then you run out of time to do your makeup, and realize you threw away your contacts and don’t have new ones.  You stick on your glasses, and figure you can at least put on the collared shirt.  Uh-oh, you now look Paul Dano in Ruby Sparks and the cashier says, “Here’s your change, sir.” This is not a good day.

paul-dano-ruby-sparks

The Hillary Clinton

No one wants this. Hillary Clinton doesn’t even want this.  The look is the result of too much styling.  You decide to put hairspray in, on top of the paste you already gooped into your mop, and then it all becomes a bit too much, resulting in a look worthy of a news anchor.  I did this on purpose for Halloween and several times not on purpose.

hillaryclintons

The Javier Bardem in No Country For Old Men

This gem is usually a result of growing the pixie out, which is its own terrible, terrible battle.  You wait and wait and wait, and then I think, “Yes. I’ve done it. I can finally make this thing a bob.”  You trim the back, part it on the side, and… now you have an alarmingly strong jaw. Congratulations, you’ve got the Bardem.

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The Brother

There’s no escaping this comparison.  It will happen as soon as you cut your hair and your family sees you right after a shower. “I never realized how much you looked like your brother.” This shall be the quote on everyone’s lips.  You are now a twin, an identical twin, and you are a boy.

rhettandi

 

The Edward Cullen

Most likely this is the most accidental of all the bad hair days. On this day, you really go for it.  You decide you’re going to look like Natalie Portman, circa SNL rap.  You fluff your hair up, total punk style, and then halfway through the day things are looking a little less like Queen Amidala and slightly more like a certain vampire. It’s most depressing. Probably the most depressing of all these horrendous pixie hair days.

cullenandportman