I have been secretly wanting short hair for a while. At Jack’s show, several weeks ago, I wore my hair down, because I wanted to look a little dressier. It was boiling hot. I felt like I was wearing a fur collar and kept pulling it up and back to let the cooler air hit my neck. One of the artists at the show had really short hair and I wished that I was brave enough to have my hair cut like that but thought, “I have had long hair for most of my life. Why am I thinking of cutting it now that I am older? Isn’t that a sign of age…of letting things go? What if I don’t like it and then I’ll never have this long hair again?”
A few days later, I went to get my hair trimmed and arrived early. As I sat in the waiting area, flipping through style magazines, just to pass the time, I was aware that most of the pages were filled with photographs of 20-year-olds with perfect dark or light, shiny, hair. The hair cuts looked like they could only be maintained by women who never turned their heads or went outside. Then I saw a style that looked like it might work for me. Trying to imagine my face and hair with that style was a stretch. “Is it possible to insert a 55 year old face, with thick grey coarse hair into this picture? But maybe the biggest question, and the one that I don’t like admitting even to myself, is how much I base what I wear, how I look, on what others might be thinking of me.
A lot of people have been commenting about my changed looks lately. A friend said the other day, “You look different every time I see you!” I would have really disliked that in the past. I felt that there was something mature and stable about consistent appearance, but a little voice inside has been prompting me to try the new….take some small risks (that do not feel small) and trust that these changes will be good for me, that they will help me to grow…. p.s. I love short hair!
“A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds…” Ralph Waldo Emerson