Beyonce Wind Machine Hair

wind-machineLet me paint you a picture. …

This morning I actually took the time to do my hair. And I’m not talking about just combing it, oh no. I ran a flat iron through it, AND … wait for it … styled it by slicking a front piece back with a bobby pin. It took time, placement, patience … talk about motivation on a Tuesday, am I right?

My walk to the train is about 8 minutes, maybe 6 sometimes if I’m really hustling. And yes, I’m usually hustling because I’m notoriously always late. But thanks to this “awesome” spring we’ve been having, I usually have to deal with the elements, whether it is bitterly cold in the morning, raining, or more recently, windy. Like obnoxiously windy where I fear I may get blown off the train platform. But honestly … that is just the beginning of my windssues (see what I did there).

Quite frankly, I think this “April showers brings May flowers” nonsense is a bunch of hogwash. It should be, “April wind storms brings really bad hair days to women.” Nothing infuriates me more than when I see a woman in a gust of wind looking like Beyonce with a wind machine on her. And I see them all the time. Me? Well, my hair usually does this really heinous dance when wind hits it. It’s like swing dancing with hair, except more annoying and less cool. Here are some of its moves:

1. The Fling Around: Makes your hair look like a bad toupee with a weird fake comb over
2. The Smack Across The Face: Need I say more?
3. Low Visibility: Hair gets in your eyes making it difficult to see in front of you (yes, I have walked into things before)
4. The Illusionist: Hair flings to the opposite sides of your face creating a fake beard
5. The Glossy: Hair in lip gloss, my favorite and yours (nothing like the ends of your hair being covered in sticky gloss that you can do nothing about until you shower)

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Never once does my hair get flung backwards in some sexy, fantastic super model fashion. Never. Once. I’m always that girl trying to casually keep my shit together as my hair flies around like Medusa. And then you end up on the train, like me this morning, thankful that you no longer are getting blown around like a rag doll, thinking you look just as good as you did when you left the house, only to catch a glimpse of yourself in the train car window to see you have an alfalfa-like piece of hair sticking straight out of your bobby pin. And that is when I quietly removed said bobby pins shamefully, deconstructing all of my hard work.

Sigh, so yeah to the Kate Upton’s of the world who always get caught in the perfect gust of wind, never ruining any hair style you worked so hard on … I hate your face … just a little.

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Phantom Hair Syndrome

tyra-haircutSo if you don’t follow me on any social media network, you would have no idea that I hacked five inches off of my hair last night. Yep. I did it, guys. And if you DO follow me on social networks, you are probably like, “shut the eff up, you cut your hair … cool. Unfollow.” Which I hope isn’t the case :::insert emoji sad cat:::

I suggest everyone do something like this, at least once in your life. Perhaps it was my drive for change, or that my hair bordem hit an all-time high, but from the moment I made the decision to hack my long mane into a long bob, I’ve been filled with excitement. Sure nerves showed their nasty face here and there, but never once did I say, “meh … maybe this is a bad idea.” I didn’t even have my reality show, “Top Model” moment where I was sobbing and hyperventilating as they cut my hair off saying, “TURN. OFF. THE. CAMERAS.” Hell no. I was telling her to cut more.

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So how do I feel with five inches less of hair? Free, most definitely. I oddly do feel like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders … I think it was all my dead ends from all the dying and frying. I feel slightly more mature, which is strange to say. But you know, a little more dignified. Like I could go to a fancy bar in a black strapless dress, long black satin gloves, red lipstick and order a dirty martini or something. Just kidding, I’ll be at the dive bar tonight slugging back house vodka and clubs. And overall I just feel excited and refreshed. I actually wanted to get up earlier than usual just to play with my hair. Seriously. Me. The girl who snoozes a legit 10 times at least in the morn.

I haven’t felt a second go by where I’ve longed for my long locks. So yes, if you are looking for something to make you feel empowered, do this. I seriously feel like I could bitch slap the world for no apparent reason. But before taking a plunge like this one, here are some tips I would like to offer throughout my experience.

1. Find a stylist with a good amount of experience. I had never gone to the lady who long-bobbed me, which was a bit unnerving, but after reviewing her background, I knew she had the skills to give me what I need. Now I adore her and have adopted her as my go-to stylist. Which is maybe another reason why I’m on cloud-9 because it has taken me YEARS to find someone like this. Jenna at Verde Salon, I adore you. So does my hair.

2. Do detailed research on the look you want. True, Kim Kardashian was my spirit animal during the whole process … which still kind of freaks me out to be honest. But I suppose it was realistic. I went on Pinterest and tried to find celebs with my skin tone, hair color, and face shape to see if this is something I could actually pull off. I even tried this stupid thing on Marie Claire where you can upload a pic of yourself and try out different hair cuts. Ugh. I’m really embarrassed to even admit that. Don’t do it … or do if you need a laugh. You never want to go to a stylist as a brunette with an oval face shape and say you want to look like some blonde with chiseled cheek bones. It just won’t work. Stylists are good … but they can’t turn water into wine, ya know what I mean?

3. My experience in the past has been to be like, “yeah I want it short, and layered,” and then I get overwhelmed and just let them do whatever the hell they want because they are the “experts” … and then I end up wanting to stab them because I hate it. No. Ask questions. Be as descriptive as possible. Talk out what you want to do with your stylist. It may not be just a five minute convo either. And if they aren’t giving you the answers you want, or not making sense, or talking you into shit you just aren’t down with, and if you feel your heart start to race … maybe back away slowly, just saying. This was the first experience where a stylist was asking ME questions … like how I wear my hair, how I foresee myself wearing my hair, etc. The more you talk, the more you get what you want … AND you walk away with some great tips, too.

4. Listen to your gut. It actually is wiser than you think and not just full of Chipotle like mine is. If you really want to dye your hair pink, but every time you think about it you feel like you need to pop a Xanax, maybe don’t dye your hair pink. I told you, from the minute I set my sights on a long bob, I never looked back. It was soothing but really creepy at the same time, because I’m never calm about ANYTHING like that.

5. Limit yourself to opinions. I’m the type of person that needs to survey the masses before making a major life decision. Survey says: that’s not a good idea. Luckily this time around, everyone was very supportive, besides a select few. But if you are impressionable, just follow YOUR instincts. Not what your best friends, dog walker’s, sister says. It will save you a lot of agony.
So there you have it. I just had to go invest in a brand new bag of tricks in order to tackle this new hair do. And by bag of tricks I mean hair curling wand and beach spray (which if heaven had a scent I bet it would be this … and cookies. Yep. Beach and cookies … and maybe vodka). No longer will I be my hair straighteners bitch. I’m lettin’ the wave out, and for people who know me, that is a SHOCKING statement for me to say.

Out with the old … in with the new.

Oh, also, here is the new ‘do … this isn’t a selfie … I swear:

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Choppin’ It Off!

elle-01-kim-kardashian-hFor as long as I can remember, I’ve had a love affair with the idea of having long hair. Perhaps it was the “always wanting what you don’t have” syndrome, but as a little girl, my mother kept my insanely curly hair rather short, and I always wanted the Little Mermaid’s hair … but brunette, of course.

Flash forward to present day and my hair is long. Long … and not doing anything. Yawn. And then I came across my high school graduation photo and literally my hair looks exactly the same. Same color. Same length. Same part. And … sigh … that photo was taken almost 10 years ago. Yowza. Mind you my hair has been through a lot of colors and lengths since then, but right now … it’s like I’m 17 years old again … except … well … a tad more aged … JUST a tad.

I was in DIRE need of change. And not because I had a bad break up or going through a transition or hate life, but just because a simple change to something like your hair can be SO damn refreshing. But I’ve already fallen down the ombre hole, did the layers thing, changed my hair color a million different ways, and the only thing shocking I have left is blonde, and that AIN’T happenin’. So what is left?

Well, I was bored one day and took a Buzzfeed quiz (oh shush, who doesn’t take those quizzes … they are addictive), asking “what hair style I should have,” and I got the long bob. I immediately got intrigued, but scratched my head, laughed and said … “haha … noooooo.”

I suppose it stayed in the back of my head, because this past Monday I was catching up on celebrity gossip (I know, I sound like SUCH a sophisticated Interwebs explorer, right?) and stumbled upon Kim Kardashian’s new do, which happened to be a long bob, and all of a sudden I said without thinking about it, “screw it, I’m doing it.”

Literally all I kept thinking was, “yes, let’s do this. I want to do this now. How fast can this happen? I want all of my hair gone. Holy crap.” In the matter of minutes I had booked my hair appointment for Thursday (tomorrow), went on Pinterest and found some long bob styles I liked, and texted all of my friends asking what they thought. Green lights all around.

Usually I would be peeing myself in fear. The last time I drastically got my hair cut was right before I graduated college and this awful stylist made me look like a newscaster from the 1980’s. I was BEYOND pissed. Usually I can keep control of my face while they style my hair, but she just kept asking, “are you mad? Do you like it? You don’t look happy.” No, bitch, I’m not happy. And since then I burned all of my graduation pics for I had an awful puffy hair cut and I was like 15 pounds over weight due to beer consumption. Cool, self.

So I decided this time it will be different. And the fact that I’m so positive about it and all about YES, I feel confident. And christ, it’s hair. It will grow back … right? Ahhh I’m like 73.4% excited and the rest scared shitless. I believe the worst part is when my stylist will do the first rather large chop. Ugh. Hopefully I don’t “Top Model-style” start to cry. Times like these I wish I had a reality show. “TURN OFF THE CAMERAS. I’M :::hyperventilating::: NOT :::hyperventilating::: FILMING :::hyperventilating::: THIS!” I kid … I wouldn’t be THAT much of a diva.

So I’m putting my fears into the universe … honestly … so that way I won’t obsess over them until 5:30 tomorrow when it will all go down.

1. I’m worried this long bob will give me fat face (I told you I’m being 100% honest here)

2. I’m worried my hair won’t look like Kim K’s and instead look like a 1980’s newscaster again

3. I’m worried it will be too puffy and out-of-control

4. I’m worried I won’t master the beachy, flowy long bob look

5. I’m worried it will ruin me (I don’t even know what that means, but … yeah … I’m scared)

So there it is. I need positive vibes tomorrow around 5:30 p.m. I decided I’m going to embody Man Repeller who chops her hair off at the drop of a hat and doesn’t give a shit. Sometimes … you just need to take a plunge. Less thinking … more plunging.

Stay tuned for the aftermath!

Ps. If this goes poorly … I blame Kim Kardashian and Buzzfeed. That is all.

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