so, a wise man pointed out that this would be hard to keep up weekly and i have to admit that the idea of coming up with something 52/53 times a year that fits the timeline format... might just be too much for me. but, i think i can swing monthly. so, back to the drawing board to think of weekly updates (or three weeks out of the month because the fourth, i've got this baby). if you have any ideas, pass them along.
Hair Timeline: A Winding Path
(because of the curly hair. yeah, i know it isn't a good pun if you have to spell it out.)
age under 1: i am born with very little hair. it stays this way for awhile. so much that my pop pop fashions hats made out of newspaper for me to wear in pictures to help with the glare. thanks, pop.
age 2: the mop is formed. i look like a sepia toned shirley temple, only with more sundresses and less lollipops.
age 3: i experiment and decide to cut my bangs. i shear them off as close as i can to my scalp... and stop half way across. my mother has to finish the rest. oh and this is right before my mom and step dad's wedding.
age 5: the mop is gone and replaced by wavy, long, unruly, easily tangled hair. i rock the bangs that start half way back from the forehead. this is also the time that i hate having my hair washed. HATE. so much so that i beg and plead to not have it washed and to have 'just a butt bath! just a butt bath!'.
age 8-11: i rock the side ponytail. i brush my hair while dry. all in all, a hot look.
age 12: in an attempt to regain the cute mop of my extra youth, i cut off a lot of hair. no to the cut cute, yes to the mushroom 'do.
it doesn't take a large picture to see just how hot i was.
age 15: though i've grown out my hair so that it doesn't look like an atomic explosion, i go to an ani difranco concert and before i know it, my hair is all gone. not even a mushroom cut, just gone. it grows out again over the summer and i decide that it needs to be even shorter. so i shave it. i learn the full extent of my round cheeks.
age 17: wanting to rebel before i go to rome to have my second audience with the pope, i dye random sections of my hair a deep purple. after two weeks in the italian mid-august sun, this lovely aubergine turns to a disgusting burnt peach. though my mother was against the hair color in the first place, she pays for me to get it fixed before going to college because 'that's where [i] will meet the people who will matter most in [my] life. and [i] can't have them thinking [i'm] a freak.' no, i'll just let them talk to me to figure that part out.
so, to recap, i go from natural to large chunks of purple to burnt pink to heavily blonde highlights in about a month.
age 21: so, after growing out my hair from both poor haircut and color choices, i decide to donate my hair to locks of love after college graduation. you must have 10 inches of hair to donate. i grew my hair extra long so it wouldn't be too short after the cut. the stupid guy cuts off FIFTEEN INCHES OF MY HAIR. i cry. my hair is up by my ears. i look like a a) french school teacher when i straighten it or b) a french a poodle if i don't. despite this vast difference in appearances, i can't be bothered to straighten it.
don't let the smile fool you- not happy with the hair.
age 24: hair is significantly long again. i read curly girl and totally change my habits. i had grown to love my hair but only now do i realize that i've been drying it out so badly. though still long and crazy, my hair is much smaller. and for those of you who know me, this is a big deal.
me... so hot right now.