Freedom.
It feels amazing. Actually, amazing is an understatement of epic proportions.
What caused this minimalist pontification today: a hair cut. The last stylist I saw was amazing with one major drawback: drama. Her life was so overflowing with it, it annoyed me. I loathe hearing of drama when I’m going to do something pleasurable. Conversely, she was a wicked bitch with the shears and gave damned good hair.
I went to my fall back stylist. He also happens to be a very good friend. He’s not as innately talented yet it’s an all around much more pleasurable experience. Although none of this really answers the question: Why do I feel so free?
It’s always easy to look back and diagnose something. Apparently, I’ve been in a funk. I didn’t even realize it. I schlepped to the salon today. I looked cute but not my normal, vibrant self.
I awoke this morning and went about my routine. I put my hair up into a pseudo-bun (really a ponytail that hasn’t been pulled through the elastic completely) and took a nice hot shower. I smelled deliciously of summer. Thank you Exotic Coconut. Upon finishing the loofah-ing and exfoliating, I turned the water off and wrapped a nice thick towel around myself.
I padded the few steps from the bathroom, a dark cramped room, into my bedroom. The whirring of the ceiling fan remained the only noise.I opened the closet doors and stood looking at all the clothes I had to select from. I pulled a pair of denim capri pants from the depths along with a slim-fit grey, crew-necked t-shirt. From the depths of the bureau, I withdrew a blue and white lingerie set.
I dressed with relative ease. Padding barefoot into the bathroom, I looked at my skin and applied a light dusting of blush and coated my lashes with mascara. I lightly lined my lips with liner then puckered and applied gloss in a matching tone. I pulled my hair from the elastic, shook my head and watched as the waves of hair tumbled around my shoulders and down my back. I knew it was long; I hadn’t realized it grew this much. My wavy hair tumbled just below the bottom of my shoulder blades like sine waves.
I slipped on an awesome pair of grey, plum, pink and olive Vision tennis shoes (a direct challenge to Converse) and I skipped from the house. I drove to the salon with my pink tote of a purse. The first thing the stylist said, “Oh my god, your hair is SO long…And, did you curl it to get those gorgeous waves?”
I laughed and relayed how my hair has changed texture over the past few years as I entered my mid-30s. He washed my hair. God, scalp massages feel SO good. He then showed me to his station. I told him to cut it to shoulder length. With the first SNIP SNIPS of the shears, the weight lightened.
All told, we estimate that he cut approximately seven to eight inches off my hair. It now rests nicely against my shoulders. It’s long enough to pull into a ponytail for the gym, my only requirement. I know it will take so much less time to take care of this style. It’s a wash-and-go look.
Just from removal of weight alone, I feel so much more free. It’s a heavenly sensation. I should have done this months ago.