I only get my hair cut about once a quarter, so I like to make it worth my while. I paid a visit to the salon on Tuesday sporting longish hair. Since the words "Just a trim, please" are never in my vocabulary, I walked out with really short hair. Shorter than I wanted, although I always love whatever my stylist does. Even though it's cute and feels wonderful, I had haircut remorse almost immediately. What am I thinking getting a summer chop in the middle of winter? Turns out I said the same thing at this time last year. It's a January tradition!
The thing is, when you have curly hair, wearing it long is a pain. Longer hair means longer styling sessions, increasing amounts of (expensive) product, and more unpredictability as to whether it will even look good after all your efforts. The aftermath of a drastic cut like this always feels like Christmas to me. I can be ready in five minutes with just a few spritzes and shakes? Happy day! I had long hair for years, and I'd probably like it now if I had perfectly behaved Zooey Deschanel locks, but as I get older I don't have much patience for the trouble anymore. I also feel sassier with shorter hair. I don't know why.
Anyway, in a few weeks it should be at my new favorite stage, which I've come to think of as "New York Length." When I look at the pictures of me in Times Square last summer, I LOVE the way my hair looked. But maybe it just looked so good because I was so happy and free.