Every time my hair starts getting a little longer I tell myself, ‘this is it, Imii. This time you’re growing it out.’
And every single time it gets completely unbearable and I end up walking into a hairdresser to have it cut back off there and then. Who am I kidding? I’m a blunt cut gal through and through.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my hair long. When I first started this little blog my hair was down to my nipples and pretty platinum blonde. Through the years it’s got shorter and shorter, more and more natural in colour, and I’ve felt more and more okay in my own skin.
But this time was different, or so I told myself. This time I was going to grow it long and curl it and be one of those instagram gals with a ribbon in my hair and an YSL bag over my shoulder. I walked past my usual salon every day and restrained myself from going in to make an appointment. My will power was superb, and I wish it had extended to things like eating healthily or getting my dissertation written ahead of schedule. A gal can only give her all to one thing at a time, right?
And the truth is, I was miserable. My hair was always in a ponytail or bun, and when it was down it was hot and irritated me and I malted everywhere. And I kept telling myself to push through, soon it would be long instead of mid-length and then it would all be okay. But yeah, miserable. I hated my hair.
I got a job last week (
technically I got two). I start about two days after I hand in my dissertation and it’s literally perfect for me. I’m buzzing. Finally I get to properly move back home to London without knowing I’ll have to pack a bag for Durham a week later. And finally Ollie and I will live in the same city after three years of Durham to London to Paris to Sussex. I’m happy as a clam.
But yes, I got a job and wanted to treat myself to something a little more exciting than just a new lipstick, that I’ll definitely wear once and then remember I’m not a lipstick gal. I booked a half head with the aim to go a little bit platinum again. The next thing I know, I’m in the salon chair asking for my hair to be cut just above my shoulders. Nice and blunt, no layers, straight across. As usual. Again.
I’m a blunt cut gal. I’m the Estee Lalonde of the small hobby-blogger world. I’m no fuss, no frills, a nice eyeliner wing and a tie-dye jumper. I haven’t felt happier than I felt as I headed home to throw on this UO jumper in a long long time. I felt like myself. Effortless and cool (lol no) and just happy. Who am I kidding with the whole ‘insta gal’ long hair thing?
Everyone’s always going on and on about finding your personal style, like we aren’t all shopping from the same highstreet shops come payday. I’m yet to find mine. I have no idea what clothes I’m about, except said tie-dye jumper and a pair of mom jeans, and my wardrobe is a huge mish-mash of clothes that don’t go together at all. I have cool girl clothes, that I’m never confident enough to wear, and preppy clothes and slouchy clothes and clothes that I bought for a festival and wore once and now can never ever wear again because wow! extra!
The one thing, however, that I have found, is my hair. I feel more ‘me’ with a nice blonde blunt cut. I feel cooler and happier, and more at ease with my appearance. It makes me want to slip on a load of rings and sit outside my favourite Parisian café (Le Petit Cardinal, 75005, if anyone’s asking…) with a cup of hot milk (lol coffee is gross) and a copy of Le Monde. Pretentious? Moi?
Wow I’ve just realised that actually most of my readers (you’re awesome) weren’t around for the year I lived in Paris so all of this is coming off as really wanky! Sorry! I lived in Paris for a year and was both super depressed and super arté and pretentious so… cast your judgements. I’m basicccccc.
A blunt cut and a winged eye are my safety blankets and that’s okay. I’m not trying to be anything other than me, and I’m happiest when I’m totally okay with that. From now on, my trips to the hairdresser will be a little more frequent – gotta keep on top of it or it grows SO FAST.
Now all I need is to get my eyebrows put back to how they were before because lately they’ve gone a bit of a funny shape. Hopefully next time you see a super close up pic of my face they’ll resemble caterpillars a little less! Fingers crossed! x