Cutting With Scissors

I’ve never been super feminine. When I walk into the store, I’m one of those people who can pick out what they want and buy it in less than ten minutes. I wear makeup and I like to play around with my clothes, but overall, I’d rather have fun experiencing life than worry about my hair.

So, I grabbed some kitchen scissors, went out into the yard, and cut it.

This place is changing me – I would have never ever done that as a kid, in high school, or even last year. A girl’s hair is something she treasures, regardless of how the outside world thinks it looks. In elementary school, my wavy brown hair fell almost down to my waist and cutting even a few inches off was a pretty big deal. In high school, I mixed it up by letting my hair get really long and then chopping it off right at my shoulders – but never higher, because that made me feel naked. I’ve always trimmed my own bangs, but that was a huge step that involved lots of YouTube videos showing how to properly do it.

The first time I dyed my hair was a big deal too. My mom never let me do it at a young age, so the first time I spent spring break in California I got a box and dyed it dark red – and I loved it. Ever since then I’ve dyed it red, let it fade to dark auburn, and then dyed it red again. It’s fun and I feel like a new woman as my hair changes.

See? Women really invest in their hair.

But last week I had had enough. I can afford a haircut, but it’s just such a hassle to schedule one and actually go, because what if something more exciting happens at the park? I’d rather not. So, I’ve let my hair grow and grow and frizz and fray to the point where the bottom five inches are completely split and frayed. I kept asking other people to just trim my ends but nobody wanted to because, as I’ve said before, women are insane about their hair, so after work one day, I just did it myself.

I brushed my hair, now completely brown with almost no trace of red, and held up the ends in a straight row above my head. Then, I slid my fingers down about an inch, ran outside, and tried to cut. What I didn’t realize is that average kitchen scissors aren’t that sharp and can’t just hack through a clump of hair, so I ended up kind of sawing my way through.

I couldn’t help but think of a family friend who prides himself on living off the land and being almost entirely self-sufficient. Along with making his own wine and beer and raising and killing a lot of his own meat, he cuts his own hair with a Flowbee, which is a mechanized razor/vacumn that you cut your own hair with. I haven’t seen this in person, but I bet it’s hilarious. 

I would have liked to hear the product pitch for this. "Tired of getting your hair cut at those stupid salons? Stick a vacumn on your head instead! Trust me!"

I would have liked to hear the product pitch for this. “Tired of getting your hair cut at those stupid salons? Stick a vacumn on your head instead! Trust me!”


I haven’t gone that far, but I’m dangerously close.

After I trimmed up some of the longer side pieces, I have to say, I didn’t do that bad of a job. My goal was to get rid of most of the coarse split ends, and in that I succeeded. I completely screwed my layers up, but I succeeded.

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