Bangs Shmangs

Sooooooooooooo I got bangs at the beginning of December. I needed something different, something fresh, something I had never done before...and without consulting any other opinions....I DID IT. Just like that. Done. Cut. Snipped.



I know it may not seem like a big deal to others, but bangs are a pretty heavy commitment. More commitment than a spray tan, a nail polish color or a new mascara. But less commitment than a full hair color change, or a new wardrobe. It takes months to grow them out, and in those months your in the "awkward" stage, where for the majority of their lives, your bangs will reside in a bobby pin or hidden behind a headband.



So I sit down in the chair and ask for my typical trim and blond highlights...at the last minute I decide to change it up..."Throw some really dark low lights around the bottom." Wooow Danielle....so brave! As she is trimming my hair..."I say...what about bangs?" STUPID! She said,"Wanna do it?" Was that a devilish grin on her face? I couldn't tell.



AND this is the exact moment I got in trouble..."Sure, why not," I said.




Sure why not?




SURE. WHY. NOT.?!



So she begins to pull them forward, and snip away....hooooollllyyyyyy crap. What did I just agree to? All I can think is..."Pat is gonna kill me...Pat is gonna kill me...." She finishes, gives me a much needed blow out, and there I am. Me and my bangs.



I got banged!



She loves it, everyone there loves it. But me....I need more convincing. I look in the mirror, and see nothing but bangs. I tilt my head to the side, I think..."hey, I can pull this off, I look hip, I look sophisticated....I look...I look......




I LOOK LIKE MY MOTHER!!




There she is, staring back at me...my mother! I have heard it a million times throughout my life, how much I look like her...but at this very moment in that swivel chair at the salon....I truly looked like my mom. Shit.



I pay for the cut and color, run out to my car and quickly begin to have a self photo session with my cell phone. I take pics smiling, not smiling, at an angle, in the light, in the dark but with every picture, she won't go away. Her eyes are gleaming at me, her smile is whispering..."I told you, you looked like me!" "AGGGGGH!" I screamed, and threw my phone down. Enough. It is what it is. There was no turning back now.




It has been almost 8 weeks of living with these bangs, and I have to say they are not all bad. Pat got used to them. My co-workers love them. My mom keeps telling me to poof them up more. I have grown to enjoy them. But I have gotten them out of my system. I can at least say I did it, so in the future I can always reference back to those moments with bangs to prevent impromptu decisions like that from ever being made again.