Bangs Bangs

This is the story of my new hair do. I had made a resolution to let my grey hairs grow out. In the process I was also letting my hair grow out. Which had the same result as it always does: I pull my hair back and the silvery roots start to show and grow grumpy.

I’ve always been a bit timid about having straight, heavy bangs because my mother gave me a frightening fringe in grade two and I’ve never quite gotten over it.

I had bought some fake bangs in Miami. One cold night, I started goofing around with the wig bag and decided to do a side-by-side comparision selfie. I decided that I might just give bangs a chance.

On Wednesday, I was so crabby about me hair that on my lunch hour, I walked into Dat Salon on Queen West and asked if they could give me a fringe. A lovely lady named Katie Hall gave me the chop and I was so pleased that I went back the next day to get a colour and the rest of my hairs cut into a bob.

Voilà! My new hair. I wish I had a better picture (I have a deranged Ed Sheeran face in all of my attempts at capturing this ‘do). I also went back to red — I remembered the wise words of my friend Teresa Kelly shared over the holidays — we used to dye our hair when we were teenagers, why stop now? At least that’s what I think she said. I was a little tipsy.