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hustlebonezzzz · 4 years

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A look back on my past hairstyles

Hair is a strange thing. It is a social phenomenon of self expression that can communicate a meaningful message to the world around us. The inferences we make based on someone’s hair is huge. Religion, gender roles/sexuality, socio- economic background, or even political leanings, are just a few examples. Hair is a tool of individual identity, and we are obsessed with hair in our modern culture. The time and money spent on hair is grand. At any given store, there are whole aisles dedicated to hair care and maintenance. I’ve even seen hair dye at the gas station. Sometimes, I think about how before hair dye, people had to live with their graying hair. There was no hiding it. These days we attach others peoples hair to our own head, get hair transplant procedures to prevent thinning, and most importantly, we alter our hair chemistry with harsh chemicals.

In my own experience, I never thought I had very much going on with my hair throughout my life, at least as far as being meaningful. However, as I sat and thought about all of my past hair styles and choices, I realized that my hair played far more of an emotional role than I had ever imagined. It still does. A bad hair day can ruin any day, honestly. So without further ado, I present my visually dated descent into madness as shown through my past hairstyles.

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Ages 0-5: At this point in life, societal expectations of hair was not on the radar. You were busy being a kid and not caring.

6-11: The bob/bang combo haunts you. Mom has taken all creative liberties over your hair and has decided that this haircut is IT. You are not completely self aware yet and still have yet to care. You’ve barely brushed it these past five years anyway. It’s just hair, right? Right… But what’s this? At age 11 you look in the mirror one day and think “this.. looks oddly familiar… oh no, oh god, *gasp* I look like COCONUT HEAD from Ned’s Declassified!” You decide to live on the edge and say fuck it! You sweep the bang to the side, slightly. A new era of hair is in the making. Remember that self awareness we talked about earlier? It is arriving.

12: Mom decides that it’s time for a bang trim and you are back to square one. You do not oppose the supreme Authority and her desire for the bang. You also chemically alter your virgin hair for the first time. Mom convinces you that highlights would be “sooo cute!” and you oblige willingly. The process is exciting and the anticipation builds through each step. The mixing of the bleach, the slathering onto the hair, the foil, the waiting. You finally wash it out and it’s time for the big reveal: You hate it deeply and cry many tears. You don’t have the heart or guts to tell Mom that you hate it, so you tell her that you love it. “Amy, have you been crying?” “No..”

This is also the point where you discover the flat iron. Everyone in middle school is straightening their hair, therefore you do as well. Simple as that. You desire to be hip and on trend, and this means clothes from Aeropostale, plaid bermuda shorts, and pin straight hair.

13: Dad has convinced Mom that it’s time to let you have a little independence with your hair, and she can’t pretend that you’re her little 6 year old forever. You haven’t realized it yet, but Mom is having a hard time with you growing up. Anyways, now we can really get to business. You want to be “scene” so bad, but you know that will never happen, so you try to keep it lowkey. Swoop-y bangs, layers, and hair growth? Yes, yes, and yes. They layers get a little too short and you look like a founding father when you put your hair in a ponytail, but you like this for some reason. You’re also still trying to figure out the bang situation, but rest assured you’ll get their in a few years time. Also, you SO wish you could dye your hair fire-engine red like Hayley Williams. In your dreams, girl.

14-15: You have decided that flat iron = the devil. You have crispified that absolute shit out of you hair over the past couple years, and you decide that au natural is the way to be. The bangs continue to grow until the entire forehead is consumed, resembling a mushroom cap. You’ve started high school, and you hide behind the bangs that you refuse to push out of your eyes. Social self awareness levels: off the charts.

At 15, you took the plunge and decided to razor cut your bangs all by yourself, holding your breath the entire time. You angle them, shortest point a half inch above the brow, longest point, right below the brow. And they look.. Good? You covered all the bases. Swoop-y? Check. Covering entire forehead? Double check. Eureka, you have found THE bang. A hair stylist will NEVER touch your precious bangs ever again. They will try and they will fail. You’ve also done away with the extreme layers and have decided that it’s time to grow out your precious mane.

16: You got your first job at the grocery store and bought red Manic-Panic hair dye from Sally’s. This is about as close to Hayley Williams as you will get for awhile. Despite the tasteful placement, mom ain’t pleased. Dad ain’t pleased because the dye stained the sink. Oops. But you’ve always wanted to dye your hair and teen angst is beginning to take over. You were inspired to do it because your best friend put a single stripe of purple in her hair. You expressed that you weren’t sure if you should put the red in because you didn’t want to piss off Mom. Her response? And I quote, “Do it pussy.” That’s all you needed.

17: You get caught sneaking out to go hang out with your scumbag boyfriend (unfortunately, you figure out the scumbag part far too late). Mom gets mad and cuts off your hair in blind rage.You cherished your newfound long locks and she knew that. You dread going to school the next day with your botched haircut. The haircut feels like a permanent scarlet letter. Everyone asks the same question: “So what made you want to cut your hair?” You respond “Just needed a change, I guess.” You feel ashamed and embarrassed every time, like your teachers and peers know the real story.

After getting the haircut fixed by an actual stylist, you dig the short, sassy hair. You decide that this haircut was meant to be and embrace the hell out of it. It was a great character building moment anyways.. right? Later, you discover Sun-In, a spray in lightener that promises natural highlights. You spray too much on and your hair turns a strange brass shade. Jake from work asks “Did you dye your hair?” “Yes.” “Oh.” The “Oh” echoes in your mind. Oh? Just oh? You don’t like my hair, Jake? It’s cool. It’s fine.

18: Ah. the age of legal adultness. You get fed up and move out of the clutches of your family home and in with your best friend. This was clearly a recipe for a drastic hair change. After all, you could do whatever the hell you wanted now. Less than a week later of being gone, you dye your hair bright pink, and then later purple. You are feelin’ damn good. When you come home for Christmas, your four year old sister proudly exclaims, “You look like a My Little Pony!!” Pinky Pie, to be exact. After getting disappointed looks from the rest of the family, you find that your sisters enthusiasm was really all you needed. Pinky Pie is awesome.

You continue to learn that you get more attention with bright hair, and it’s a great conversation starter. The attention is mainly positive, but occasionally, a boomer will chime in with the rude opinion you never asked for. The personal favorite remains: “Kill the manic who did THAT to your hair!” You respond “I don’t really want to kill myself.”

You then panic at the thought of graduating high school and being perceived as immature for having bright hair, so you dye it brown and cut it shorter than it’s ever been. It’s an angled cut, and you feel like a Karen. Instinctually, you immediately message “I’ve made a grave mistake.” to the group chat you had with your friends. You are very melodramatic and your friends think that you must have crashed your car or something. Nope, just another bad hair cut. But life goes on and it grows out. Thankfully, you recover from the Karen cut just in time for graduation.You attempt to dye it deep brown, and it turns black. It’s all good though.

19: You decide that you still want color and opt for a small peek-a-boo section of the hair. “Do it pussy” forever resonates in your mind. Purple, blue, red, and orange are the colors of choice. You get a better boyfriend with this hair, and all is well in the world. You feel cool, yet classy. Was this your hair peak?

20: The brown keeps fading out and looking all blotchy from that time you decided to bleach it for the pink and purple. You decide that you need to cleanse your hair of it’s sins. This means more bleach. Fuck it, you are going blonde. This is the last time you will torture your hair with chemicals. Alas, the blonde doesn’t last very long.

You want some flair, so you go for the most bold natural color and order natural red henna powder. Everyone thinks it’s real. Ha, fools. You get tired of breaking hearts when you explain to those who ask that this is indeed not your natural color. You instead opt for the response “Grew it myself,” which is technically not a lie.

21: You continue to discover how much old men fetishize red hair and think you must be feisty or something. Gross. “You know what they say about women with red hair, right?” “No?” You also grow it out and recover what was lost in high school. Your friends cheer you on and convince you to hold off on chopping it when you’re having a moment. Things get weird and sad after leaving the community college and starting the big ol’ university. You gain 25lbs and revert to straight bangs and a middle part, and use your hair to hide again. It’s kind of sadistic. You quickly learn that this choice is a mistake and revert back to your true form: side part and angled bang.

22: It’s finally long.. but also very crispy. It’s time to say goodbye. You’ve been wanting to say goodbye. The hairstylist gets cold feet and doesn’t cut off as much as you ask her. You don’t say a damn thing, and eventually finish the job at home. Who knew cutting hair at home was so easy? Money and time become scarce, so retouching the auburn color doesn’t really happen anymore. In the past this might have troubled you, but for now you don’t really care.

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So there you have it. It’s just hair, right? Dead stuff growing out of your head. Well, yes. But it doesn’t take a genius to understand that hair is a big part of many people's identity. It’s one of the first things we tend to notice about others. Whether we mean to or not, we prejudge on appearances. Hair can get so emotional the more you think about it. I never knew how emotionally attached I was to my hair until it was taken away from me at age 17. Personally, my hair was a security blanket growing up. I learned to use it as a way of hiding my face and shying away from others. It was also one of the few things I had control over, and indeed became a major part of my young identity. Turning 18, I asserted my own ultimate control when I dyed my whole head bright pink. I now realize that this was in essence my way of letting my odd family know that I was in charge of my own endeavors from now on. The legality of turning 18 meant so much to me at the time, and pink hair was a grand symbol of it all.

So now I invite you to go look back on your old photos and brew on them. Reminisce, perhaps. Ultimately, you should at the very least laugh, because I know we’ve all had shitty haircuts at some point.

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berrylumpz · 4 years

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A look back on my past hairstyles

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Ages 0-5: At this point in life, societal expectations of hair was not on the radar. You were busy being a kid and not caring.