I used to have long hair, I've always had long hair and because it's thick, people have always said it's my best feature. No supermodel legs and perfect boobs for me, just hair...least it's something! The problem with my hair has always been management. Yes, it's thick but it's not thick in a good way, it's thick thanks to my Jewish blooded father and as coarse as Pete's chest hair. Seriously, people flinch away in horror when I pull out one of my jewish hairs, in all it's frizzy, coarse, ugliness. Thankfully most of my hair isn't like this but enough of it is that I either spend 1 1/2 hours blowdrying and straightening it or I tie it back in a pony tail. Or, like a friend suggested, I could have it washed and styled at the salon a couple of times a week, how nice would that be? Unfortunately I don't have a filthy rich mining tycoon as a husband...well, not yet, anyway.
In my car accident the most significant damage was to my thoracic, so that affects everything I do with my arms, the further they are away from my body the more painful it is. Blowdrying is a very painful endeavour and in the time after Indira was born I did it exactly once, otherwise I tied it back in a pony tail. Every day. And like every other sleep deprived mother out there, I wouldn't have noticed if I went to the supermarket with my Ugg boots on and in fact I did, more than once. As you can imagine, my hair being in a ponytail everyday wasn't even on my fashion radar...until no less than 5 people commented on how sad it was to have long hair and always tie it back - my mother being 3 of these people and the others are no longer on my christmas card list. Then I had an acute phase with my back where I couldn't lift my arms to tie it up, let alone wash it. After 6 days of looking like a hobo I had had enough. There were not enough beanies and hats in the world to solve this problem. I spent 7 hours overnight on the internet researching it and there was only one option left. CUT IT OFF.
So, I made an appointment and that's what I did. The first cut, which I think I liked, and I think I miss, is featured in this blog. It had a long fringe so in photos you didn't automatically get slapped in the face with boy short hair. Unfortunately I'm an obsessive idiot and once I experienced the joy of washing and air drying your hair daily, I wanted it even easier, I didn't want a fringe I had to straighten...I wanted Halle Berry hair! Unfortunately it slipped my mind that I don't look anything like Halle Berry and deluded myself into thinking that if I just had her hair then I'd look just like her, a little bit paler, maybe. Also, how much easier on my back would it be if I only had to slop a bit of product on? I've got this self deception $hit down to a fine art and I don't think I'm doing myself any favours.
So, finally I come public. This is the first pic I have taken, or allowed to be taken, since cutting my hair off. One thing is true, it is so so so much easier on my back although I'm still getting used to the idea of wax everyday, unfortunately I look like a strung out tom cat otherwise. The person who is suffers the most from my lack of hair is probably Pete, he's the one who wakes up next to a boy now. No more pillow strewn sexy locks for him, no more running his fingers through my hair or holding onto it during um, cuddles - see, I told you I was good at this self deception business. Pete says he likes it, though does admit he maybe liked it more when it was longer at the front - I do love him for his lies, I don't think I could take it if he admitted he hated it. I just wish I was writing this saying that short hair had changed my life and I feel like a short-haired sex goddess like Halle Berry...rather than a short-haired burmese.