critical length

Having bangs is definitely more work than not having bangs.  For the most part, I think I’ve handled it well over the 2 years I’ve been a, um, “bang-ed” adult.  Insisting on using my flat iron while camping at Sasquatch last year was not a high moment for my “I’m pretty low maintenance” self-view. However, despite the occasional snag, it’s been alright.

When I got all my hair chopped off in… March? they gently chastised me for cutting my own bangs (again) and reminded me I can come in for a free bang trim anytime.  I like wearing my bangs pretty long, so they do require pretty frequent trimming.

As much as I love my salon (Lana Cyrus — if anyone lives in Chicago and has curly/unruly hair, go to them!), it isn’t really on my way to anything, so that didn’t really happen.  Unfortunately I also haven’t cut my own bangs, so they’ve just been getting longer and longer.  Sometimes I clip them back, but sometimes I’m all “No, I can totally work with this!”.  I then pretend I can rock a side-swipe look and that works… for maybe 2 minutes, or until I leave my bedroom, whichever is first.  So I think I am walking around with just a bit of hair in my eyes and boy am I cool.

Not bad, right?

Then, I catch a look at myself in something reflective.

Alright, FINE.  I’ll cut my damn bangs.

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