Thursday, March 8, 2012


My hair was short when we were last friends. It was so short that the hairdresser had to shave the back of my head to mend the botchjob I had done to myself, one night when I had been left alone with the scissors.

It was a chic style, a 1920s bob, not unlike Louise Brooks or Edita Vilkevičiūtė as Chanel for Lagerfield. It was the closest I could ever get to shaving my head, the true cultural signifier of being hopelessly depressed.

As I was complimented for the boldness of the cut by strangers at parties, I could only think: "You don't know..." When I left his Jolimont apartment at 4 o'clock in the morning, I could only think: "You don't want to know..."

My dark hair now reaches far, far down my back, in thick cascades of incidental waves. I describe its length as cinematic and I revel in how it somehow illustrates that time has passed and things have changed.

But when he glances at me vacantly, with his new frames and unfamiliar beard, I know nothing of what he thinks. To ease the threat of self-reproach, I imagine he is looking at my hair.

I imagine he is looking, not only to survey its excessive length, but to recall its similarity to a style I once had. The style I had when we would hang out together and laugh endlessly... and I would actually be happy.


  1. I did a similar thing once. My hair was beautiful, long, and so shiny (it was the mid 90s, I played guitar, so it was a requirement). I hacked it all off when I broke up with my first real girlfriend, and the only way to "fix" it was for my dad to get out the shaver. Despite being casually unpopular, it wasn't long before more kiddies at my high school started shaving their locks. People said they thought it looked awesome, but I didn't actually do it to be awesome.

    BTW - Louise Brooks? ZOMG.


  2. Hah! It sounds as if you really embraced the whole grunge movement! I assume you used both shampoo AND conditioner? There's no greater way to get shiny locks. And as for the buzz-cut revival? TRENDSETTER! HAHA!

    It's a fascinating cultural signifier, that new and severely different haircut. More often than not, it tends to be a cry for help or else a desperate ploy for some kind of metamorphosis.

    Yes! I recall your crush on Louise Brooks! How funny is that!

  3. I think my love affair with mope-rock ended with the destruction of my hair! From Screaming Trees to David Bowie to the tune of Click Go The Shears...

    I agree, it's definitely one of those things you do when you've had an emotional blow and need to do something drastic, but people who are only looking at it from the outside usually assume it's a cultural statement of some kind. It's kind of hard to suddenly grow your hair in a new and interesting way in a fit of rage, as much as you might like to make a point. Did you stick with the bob for a while?

    She's definitely RAWR-worthy. You'll have to remind me where I mentioned it previously, I'm drawing a blank!

  4. It sounds like you made a real 180 turn! It's funny how your hairstyle can so complement your musical identity!

    And you're absolutely right about the emotional blow. I can understand why punks and emos can go to such drastic measures to convey their own sense of sadness... but then a sense of belonging comes from that too. It shows that you're a part of a group.

    The cut happened three years ago. I had a trim two years ago but I haven't done anything to it since. It now goes down to my mid-waist.

    I think you mentioned her on your blog!