Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

I’ve always believed in staying with the tried and trusted. Find a good man and stick with him through thick (him) and thin (her), I say. Lately, I’ve had my doubts.

Should I stay or should I go? I’ve wrestled with the decision time and again, come close to leaving and then changed my mind, swayed by the emotional ties that bind. We go back at least ten years, K and I. Yes, I believe I speak for many women when I say that my hairdresser is one of the most important persons in my life. And when you find Mr. Cut-It-Right, you don’t let him go just like that.

A decade. This is serious. And hey, that’s longer than we’ve been together, I say to my hubby. He understands, for K is one of the few people who’ve successfully tamed his bush-like mane into something resembling good grooming.

K truly understands my (often unmanageable) hair and knows what I want…even when I don’t. He did his magic and sent me out feeling great for my wedding, confident for my new job, and practical yet stylish as a new mum. He charges humane prices, gives me free trims when I happen to be in the neighbourhood on other business, and never ever hints at the need for pricey hair treatments such as colouring and rebonding (on the contrary, it takes a lot of convincing before he lets me part with my money).

Sometimes, I think this has possibly been the most stress-free relationship I’ve had with any adult. It would be perfect, except for one small matter. Lately, there has been some tension between us over the “fringe” issue: I like it, he doesn’t.

I’ve been inordinately fond of bangs ever since I can remember. No doubt fueled by literary descriptions of the Ingalls sisters’ preparations for the occasional church supper and social gathering -- a large part of which involved heating and curling their bangs -- in the Little House on the Prairie series, a delightful account of Laura Ingalls’ pioneer childhood in the American West.

It’s time to move on to a different look, “more sophisticated and less like a student,” K says firmly. A future without bangs? I-need-my-fringe! It is my security blanket, it hides imperfect eyebrows and breakouts on the forehead. I am not totally convinced, because K’s never been on an anti-fringe crusade…..until now. Then he adds – and this drives in real deep – that I “look very cheena with a fringe”. Ouch. That burned.

Well, if needs must. Maybe I will like the new-look me with sleek, side-swept hairdo. But I’ve already wavered and trimmed my bangs twice (to regrettable results). I will have to see K eventually and ‘fess up, or press on and embrace change.

The other alternative is not at all appealing, for I hate to think of splitting hairs with K, parting ways forever….and facing the awful possibility that there might NOT be someone better out there…

What’s your take on this issue? Click on the comments button, and share your thoughts on this dilemma so universal to all womankind.? 

by lk