I wasn’t going for a Patti Smith cut when I took scissors to my hair tonight, but I did channel her at least a little.
Today was rough. A lot has been rough lately, but more on that for another post. I had a couple of hours alone at home tonight and I decided to dye my hair. To cover up the grey. It felt so good to take charge that I decided to cut my hair too. I took 4 inches off the bottom. I just grabbed it and chopped it. And then chopped it a little more and imagined that I’d got it evened out. Then I did a little layering and finished up by ever so lightly trimming the bangs. I kept thinking about Patti Smith. She cut her own hair. And she’s a bad ass.
Voila! No more grey. No more blues. Time for some red and I sang along with The Shins as I added fullness and body to my formerly lifeless locks. When I picked Amalia up from the gym, I threw on my leather jacket (that Izzy finally brought home from school) along with my new favorite watermelon pink sneakers and even a little red lipstick to make things more festive. I do know how to dress for the rhythmic moms on a Friday night.
Everyone liked my haircut, but I could tell one mom just couldn’t believe that I would actually cut my own hair and not spend 3 hours in the salon. We’ll see how the color holds up. We’ll see if the cut has any shape tomorrow. My beauty-shop-for-one might lose it’s luster, but Patti Smith won’t. Look at this photo…