These desperate hair times call for desperate hair measures. Okay, maybe “desperate” is a bit of hyperbole. But when it comes to my hair I reserve the right to over react. And Covid hair is no laughing matter, my friends.
I’ve always been somewhat obsessed with my hair. Which, if you’ve been reading my blog for a while now, you will already know. Too curly, too frizzy, too fluffy. Too many whoop-dee-dos and hair bumps, not smooth enough, or cool enough. It was always something. Sigh. My teenage years were blighted by hair worries and drama. How I cheered when flattening irons and smoothing gels were invented.
But then I met some very fine hair stylists, like Carmen. And I finally learned to live with my willful locks. You can read about my hair journey through the ages here. So my hair has been good for years. Well, except for that stint of letting the natural curl have its way a couple of years ago. I still remember the humid night I had the girls from work over for a barbeque and my hair looked like a free-form sculpture by the end of the evening.
Then came the pandemic. My regular five week hair appointment was scheduled for the week after everything in Ontario closed down. And my hair has now been without professional attention since mid-February. Over eight weeks! I now have Covid hair.
My hair is so short that the difference between five weeks and eight weeks, is major. Resulting in shaggy, messy sideburns, bangs that hang in my eyes, and a flat top. And let’s not even get into those roots. Some serious intervention was needed, folks.
So, yeah. I did it… cut my own hair. I haven’t done that since the disastrous incident in high school. For me to cut my own hair, I have to be desperate.
This time, however, I avoided disaster. In fact, I’m pretty pleased with the results. First I trimmed my sideburns and over my ears. The world didn’t stop spinning. So two days later, I cut my bangs, trying to maintain the asymmetrical slant that Carmen gives me each month. Then I angled my little scissors up into the bangs to thin them out, and make them a bit jaggedy. I do not want a bowl cut. And as I said in my video, I’m happy. And feeling good about this particular desperate measure.
I called my mum yesterday to announce that I had given myself a Covid haircut. She had a good laugh. She knows all about my hair obsession. I told her it looked pretty good… from the front. So she suggested that I get Hubby to trim the back. Ha. Then I had a good laugh.
In other news, this is what I wore for my trip to the bank yesterday afternoon. Well, not to the bank proper, just to the automated teller. My new Roots sweatpants, Stan Smith Adidas, Vince short-sleeve tee, Uniqlo hoodie, and my Veronica Beard jacket. Every year I pull that VB jacket out of my closet, and every year I still love it. It was expensive, but the fabric and the cut are just right. And it has held its crisp, structured shape year after year. I think I probably looked pretty good on the CCTV at the bank. Except for the back of my hair. Ha.
Hubby and I moved our squash tepee into the garden yesterday morning. Afterward he spent a while hilling up the soil around the poles. He is so ready to start planting. He’s impatient for mother nature to catch up. But the snow that’s been falling off and on these past few days has not been encouraging for gardeners.
But, back to hair. Since I have summoned up the courage for that initial trim, I think I can keep the sideburns and bangs neat for the duration of our isolation. But well, Covid hair cutting is one thing. Covid hair colouring is a whole other matter.
I’ve decided that I won’t be buying any at-home colouring kits or root touch-up kits. I’m going to let the natural colour have its way, and document the process.
Carmen and I decided a couple of cuts ago to lighten the base colour and add some very light highlights on the top. That was fortuitous, as it happens. Because the roots on top won’t be as noticeable as my hair grows out. Everything on top just keeps getting lighter and lighter. But for the rest… well… it will be interesting to see how the colour devolves. And whether I will like my hair grey, or white, or whatever it will be when it’s all natural.
I’m like a science experiment. I will observe the process as my colour and style devolve. And record my observations. Maybe make a data table. But, I hypothesize that when the lock-down finally ends, I will run screaming to Carmen to make me look like myself again. I guess we’ll see, won’t we?
I know there are so many more important things to worry about these days. I’m trying to not worry about my hair. Ha. Like that will happen. My friend Katie who used to work the Laura Mercier counter at Nordstrom told me once that I have hair dysmorphia.
I know she was only joking. But… still… she may have a point.
How about you my friends? How’s your Covid hair-do doing these days? Have you resorted to desperate hair measures?
P.S. All the clothing links in this post, except for the Uniqlo link, are affiliate links. If you make a purchase after clicking my link, I will earn a commission.