So last night was Wednesday, and Katy was at work.
It was 11 PM and I had no homework, I'd already seen the evening's airing of Law & Order, and there was a Teen Vogue on my coffee table. I don't usually buy Teen Vogue, but a girl in my class insisted I take it home from class before dropping it in my purse.
I flipped it open and rubbernecked a few items, all of which were completely and utterly unattainable on my present budget. A parade of things I cannot ever have; A tawny yellow skirt-suit by Proenza Schouler (completely impractical, but one day I'll have a big-girl job that may or may not necessitate a skirt-suit by Proenza Schouler ), Blake Lively's legs, the red cap, that only Madleen C could pull off, on the first page of the 22 Spring Essentails Index – but then, I saw it. Something I could have.
Anja Rubik's perfectly cropped bowl cut inspired sensation of a hairstyle. I had to have it. And I would.
The scissors in the kitchen are used for two things in this apartment; opening bottles, and taking up space in the knife drawer.
I realise that these scissors are not for hair.
I also realise the risk, and remember being yelled at as a child for attempting to "grow out my bangs" using scissors. Obviously, that didn't work. Although, I did have the baddest horizontal faux-hawk on the playground that year. Respect.
Nevertheless, I took the scissors into the bathroom, made a ponytail and then cut said ponytail off.
Shortly after the point of no return, my good pal Mer called. Gleefully, I told her of my haute coiffure strategy, while she sat silently on the line. 10 minutes later, Mer was at my door with a Toblerone, demanding that I put down the scissors.
It was 11 PM and I had no homework, I'd already seen the evening's airing of Law & Order, and there was a Teen Vogue on my coffee table. I don't usually buy Teen Vogue, but a girl in my class insisted I take it home from class before dropping it in my purse.
I flipped it open and rubbernecked a few items, all of which were completely and utterly unattainable on my present budget. A parade of things I cannot ever have; A tawny yellow skirt-suit by Proenza Schouler (completely impractical, but one day I'll have a big-girl job that may or may not necessitate a skirt-suit by Proenza Schouler ), Blake Lively's legs, the red cap, that only Madleen C could pull off, on the first page of the 22 Spring Essentails Index – but then, I saw it. Something I could have.
Anja Rubik's perfectly cropped bowl cut inspired sensation of a hairstyle. I had to have it. And I would.
The scissors in the kitchen are used for two things in this apartment; opening bottles, and taking up space in the knife drawer.
I realise that these scissors are not for hair.
I also realise the risk, and remember being yelled at as a child for attempting to "grow out my bangs" using scissors. Obviously, that didn't work. Although, I did have the baddest horizontal faux-hawk on the playground that year. Respect.
Nevertheless, I took the scissors into the bathroom, made a ponytail and then cut said ponytail off.
Shortly after the point of no return, my good pal Mer called. Gleefully, I told her of my haute coiffure strategy, while she sat silently on the line. 10 minutes later, Mer was at my door with a Toblerone, demanding that I put down the scissors.
She was too late. By that point I had effectively executed the "Suri Cruise" and could do anything but cease and desist. Two hours, and a second pair of scissors later, I stepped away from the mirror standing on a shag carpet fashioned of my own descended mane, liberated.
Free at last. And with the money that I'll save on shampoo now, that suit is looking better with every passing minute. From my breasts to my brows in one night. Now that’s what you call a madcap decision. Pun intended. Snip snip!
Free at last. And with the money that I'll save on shampoo now, that suit is looking better with every passing minute. From my breasts to my brows in one night. Now that’s what you call a madcap decision. Pun intended. Snip snip!
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