Last year during a routine hair cut, my stylist posed a question: had I ever considered donating my hair?
I could honestly say: No. I didn't even know that was a thing. Is that a thing??
To which he replied that it certainly was a thing, and a very nice thing at that, and if I wanted to consider it I should let my locks grow another few inches and return to him in a year to chop it all off. I considered the idea briefly but decided I was much too attached to my hair to hack it off, even if it was for a good cause. I put the idea to rest and moved on.
Fast forward 12 months and I was itching to revamp my life a little bit. I've been at loose ends since the fall, you see, and a mini makeover was just the ticket to kick off a fabulous holiday season and new year. I had more than enough length to donate and suddenly the idea didn't seem so bad. In fact, it seemed like a FAB idea, and I decided to go for it.
I shared my plans with the Girl a few weeks before taking the plunge. I had an ulterior motive, obviously -- with the competitive swim season ramping up, her very long hair was becoming a bit of a problem to tuck up into her cap and I was thinking a hair cut might be in order for her, too. I didn't get so much as a nibble until she told her friend about it, who said wouldn't that be cool and she could put it up on the Random Acts of Kindness board at school! She decided to go for it.
Spontaneous acts of kindness are apparently discouraged, however, at least when it comes to a busy salon. After mustering our collective courage we were turned away the first afternoon, but made appointments for the following day. Here we are before the big event:
I look horrible and out of focus (selfies with a big camera are not as easy as you might think) but she looks adorable, as usual.
She was a total trooper while they scraped her hair back, and held her breath when the snipping started. A few seconds later, and she was holding her braid in her lap and staring at herself in the mirror. It only took a minute for her to recalibrate; one comment ("Mum, I don't even recognize myself!") and little shake of her head and then a big smile. I was worried there would be tears, but when she grinned like a lunatic and gave me a thumbs-up, I knew we were golden.
I decided to go short-short: who says fat girls can't rock a pixie?! I had done some internet research beforehand and decided without a doubt, they could.
An hour and a half later the two of us walked out with ponytails in hand, debuting short-and-sweet 'do's. And you know what, guys? Short hair is AWESOME! But it does make a buddy cold.
Admittedly, I didn't love the blown-forward look for me. 1950's-Ringo wasn't even flattering on Ringo, so it didn't stand one chance with me. But I figured that every stylist likes to take a few creative liberties, and it wasn't anything for me to wash it once I got home, and blow it back. And now, I luuuuuurve it.
The Girl loves her new style as well, and we've both resolved to keep it short for the next little while, until we feel like growing it out to donate again (hair, as a renewable resource, is awesome like that.) Best of all, we've provided a couple of kids out there struggling with cancer or alopecia with a new head of shiny, happy hair (minus a couple of greys, which I hope they ferret out; grey hair when you're six just isn't cool.)
Buh-bye, tails! It's been nice growing you.