Thursday, November 18, 2010


So I cut off my hair
And rode straight away 
For the wild unknown country 
Where I could not go wrong

"REB. Do you WANT to look stupid??
As my dear petite mother raised her voice to a volume that seemed altogether out of proportion to her size, I held the phone away from my ear and smiled up at Daniel, more than slightly embarrassed. He continued to add more red gunk and foil to my hair, but seemed somewhat perturbed. 

It seemed, I would face some resistance when I got home. I thanked the hair gods that a typical trip to the hairdresser for me takes about three and a half hours. That was three and a half hours for Mum to calm down, and for me to formulate a reasonable and logical response to her anger. Them's the breaks it seems, when you choose a trip to Europe over moving out, and live in your parents' backyard. Then shave half your hair off.

At the risk of sounding somewhat cliched, I think there's something quite liberating and cathartic about cutting one's hair off. Not just a trim, mind you. I mean, taking the length of your hair and chopping it right off. Again, excuse any trace of something cliched and corny, but it's as if along with the locks of hair falling to the floor, so too does the weight of it, and any baggage that might be cramping your style.

Old hair.

At the beginning of this year, I cut my long hair into a short bob. It felt great. Drying my hair suddenly took considerably less time than the hour I would regularly have to spend battling it. It was easier to manage. But as well as that, I felt as if I'd turned a new leaf, that I was a somewhat new Reb to go along with the new look. It was sort of as if, university had finished, it was time to get it together... time for a new Reb world of newness.

I wonder if that's how Britney Spears felt when she shaved her head? I am not sure. I do know however, that getting back from overseas, realising it was ACTUALLY time to Get It Together, and having to deal with some unpleasantness of really quite epic proportions upon returning home, meant that I felt compelled to do something different with my hair, my entire look as it were. I feel that I might be over-dramatising what really is essentially just "a haircut", but I found it interesting to note to myself exactly how much I wanted to cut my hair off, to change it right up. Leave behind the Reb of the past few months and those experiences.

So. As I spoke to Steve and Daniel (Yes, there's two of them. I have learned the hard way that when it comes to hair, you get what you pay for) at Rokk Ebony I got more and more excited about the prospect of looking different ... and then Steve whipped out the clippers. He turned it on, and suddenly I heard the whirring, whizzing sound next to my ear. I actually let out a little yelp and my hands rushed to my face as the first clumps of hair fell to the floor. As he moved around my head, my terror-excitement turned into gleeful excitement. My hands then went to my head and felt the remnants of my thick Chilean hair. Awesome.

This really doesn't do any justice to the sheer amount
of  hair that was on the ground around me.

Three hours later, I emerged, with shaved underneath, short locks on top, and a newly resplendent red fringe, sans ratty re-growth. Both Daniel and Steve looked extremely pleased with their handiwork, and chuffed with my reaction. Which, needless to say, was one of complete, undiluted delight.

Derp derp. New hair.

It's fun to stroke.

Muy bien.

And what of my mother's reaction upon my arrival back home?
"Oh! Reb, that actually looks nice!"
Then I turned around and lifted up my hair.
"Oh god... shit. Reb. Your hair is gone!"
Mum then started speaking a hilarious mix of Spanish with a few English expletives, as she is wont to do when slightly riled up. My dad and I couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. She soon though, conceded that my new 'do looks rather good. She couldn't help but impart the following words of wisdom:

"Reb... please. Make sure you wear make up. Look pretty. Wear bows and ribbons, please. Otherwise you'll look ... tough."

Thanks, Mum.

1 comment:

  1. i guffawed at the thought of carmen vomming expletives over your hair. makes me wanna do something of equal daring.