When I was little, my best friend’s younger sister wandered into her brother’s room one night, found a pair of misplaced scissors and chopped her hair to the skull on one side of her head. This story obviously became laughable over the years, but for some reason it stuck with me, and not in an entirely laughable way. I have friends who cut their own hair, their kids hair, my hair. It’s nothing to them, but it always terrified me – to be responsible for someone like that. To wield the scissors with finesse, snipping away and evening out the ends with a critical eye.
Confession: We’ve taken Mia to a professional hair stylist once in her five years of existence. Every other time Zach has cut her hair. (He’s one of those “It’s just hair” people.) But I got the nerve to cut it last fall, and we cut more than a trim, and you know what? I was good. It was cute. It framed her face and brushed against her shoulders just so.
So Friday night as I was putting the boys to bed, Zach trimmed Mia’s hair. And it was fine, if a little uneven. So back into the bathroom we went to even it out. Only this time, just as the scissors began to slice into the damp hair I held between my fingers, Mia whipped her head around, and SNIP. Oh no. This was not a “Oh, no one will notice” oh no. This was a “There is a sizeable gap in the back of her hair” oh no. I had no choice but to even it out.
This is the result.
Cute? Yes. Does it make her look four years older? Yes, and that is unacceptable. I’m not going to lie — I mourned a little for the hair that was.
But then on Saturday I got a sign. A sign that everything will be okay, and in fact we’re right on trend. And curly, textured hair this length can look good. I got this:
Do you see what I see? But that’s not all. The inside of this Anthropologie catalog is filled with beautiful shots of this model whose hair looks just like Mia’s (save for the color).
Like this one:
If I can get Mia to sit still long enough to pull a comb through it.