Day 184 Risk: Go Pixie

Okay, I didn’t go full pixie. But I went pseudo-pixie. Yup. I chopped off all my hair.

I used to keep a bob when in college. It was short and cute and hugged my chin. I liked it, but felt like I looked 12 years old. So when I graduated from college I began growing it out. I did another bob for a short period when I moved to Chicago and was working at a hair salon, but quickly grew that out when I realized that quitting my job would mean no more free haircuts.

Basically I haven’t had short hair in years and have never gone super short.

Basically, I was scared shitless to do this.

I didn’t make up my mind until about 24 hours before my hair appointment. Not wanting to freak out my stylist, I knew I needed to let her know my intentions. My stylist is a friend and pretty awesome so I didn’t doubt that she would be able to give me exactly what I wanted. But making such a huge change is scary on all sides. So I text her Friday night and said, “How do you feel about pixie cuts?”

“Are you serious?!” she responded. She knows about this blog and I’m sure was thinking, “What is this crazy girl doing now?!”

Her initial thought was that I wanted something like this:

Only Halle can do this look. I'd look like a fat six year old boy if I tried this.

But I was actually thinking more of this:

So pretty...

…which apparently is not a pixie. Well it’s sort of a pixie, but it’s not a true pixie. It’s like a bob/pixie mashup. My stylist was a little freaked out. When I got there, she stopped in the middle of another client and asked, “Do you really want to do this?!”. She breathed a relieved sigh though when I showed her the above pic. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to convince you to do something more like this all morning.”

But could I pull it off? Could I actually wear this style well? How in the hell was I going to style this myself? All of these questions were bouncing around my brain as she pulled the back locks straight and snipped.

“Oh god, I’m really doing this aren’t I?” I laughed nervously.

“No going back now,” she smiled.

As the cut went on we found multiple other stylists watching us. Apparently it’s not common for someone to come in and do something so drastically different. One of the stylists, who had a true pixie cut, said she did what I was doing first, then went all the way. My stylist responded by saying that the cut I was getting was like a gateway to a true pixie. All I could think of was how pot is a gateway for heroin and my palms got a little sweaty.

As more and more and more hair was chopped off (don’t forget, my hair was not exactly short to begin with) I felt myself calming. I began to feel lighter and lighter, as though shedding an old skin and revealing a side of myself yet to be seen. By the end, I was very happy, felt uber classy and surprised by how nice it felt not to have hair on the back of my neck.

Oh my god where did my hair go...

I will say that I feel different than I did with longer hair. I wasn’t expecting how connected I would feel to my fine, thin locks. With it longer, I felt hotter and sexier. With it shorter, I feel sophisticated and artsy. I know I’ll eventually just feel like myself, but this initial change is kind of hard to get used to. I’ve heard of this connection to one’s hair before but this is the first time I’m really experiencing it. It’s a way of self-expression and, I now see, a link to one’s identity. And even though a part of me thinks that’s all bullcrap, the other part of me is feeling the difference.

I haven’t styled it yet, so we’ll see how much I’m liking it after that. But for now I’m diggin’ on it. It’s almost like I’ve gotten a fresh chance to redefine myself.