In Which I Chop off My Hair

Well, we’re still here at home. Clio’s numbers still weren’t high enough to start her next round of chemo, but we’re going to test again tomorrow and possibly go in on Friday. Or maybe it’ll end up being next week. Who the hell knows! It’s completely beyond our control.

Speaking of things being beyond our control — and attempting to regain some sense of control: Remember back over the summer when I wrote about how I was considering donating my hair for wigs for cancer patients? Partly because it’s a nice thing to do and partly because sometimes big changes in life make you want to change your appearance?

Well, I did it yesterday. Took off just shy of 9 inches to donate to Pantene Beautiful Lengths, which was recommended to me by someone (here, maybe?) as one of the best programs. They also don’t require your hair to be as long, so that was a bonus, too. My hair was getting so freakin’ long I was starting to look like Cathy. (From the comic, that is. Ack!)

I’ve had more or less the same hair for the past, oh, fifteen years, albeit with variances in color and presence of bangs. So I was kind of curious what I’d look like with shorter hair. This was a good excuse.

So, here I am at the salon right before the big chop. I just pulled my hair out of a ponytail (its usual state these days, since it was so long and annoying) and it’s sort of messy and wavy. I also look a little apprehensive, don’t you think?

And…voila! Here is the final result. That scary, vaguely phallic thing in my hand is my excised ponytail. (It’s wet, ergo the dark hue and matted appearance).

I love how these pictures are sort of like the before and after pictures in makeover or weight loss ads. In the first one, the lighting sucks and it’s slightly out of focus, and I don’t look particularly happy. In the “after” shot, the light and focus and framing are all much better, and I look thinner, too. Nicely if unintentionally done, hairwash girl and Carlo, respectively.

As for reactions to the new ‘do, they’ve been mixed. Alastair (who, when I told him the other day that I was going to go through with this, said “you could just donate blood instead”) deemed it “cute.”

“Cute?” I said. “Gee, thanks.”

“Isn’t that what women say to each other? That looks cute?”

“It’s very different when a man says it and a woman says it,” I explained. (Am I right, ladies?)

Clio said she thought it looked great. I think in part because now it’s more like her hair — lengthwise, that is. Not thickness-wise. (Hers continues to thin.)

Elsa said, “You don’t look like mommy anymore!” Not an unexpected reaction from her. She even said to me later that I didn’t hug like mommy. Maybe because previously mommy hugs involved hair dangling in her face? In any case, by this morning she seems to think I look like mommy again. And she let me hug her when I dropped her off at school.

As for me, well….I’m of two minds about it. I’m glad I did it. It feels good to have a change, and it feels good to be doing something for women with cancer who might not be able to afford to buy a wig. (They’re pricey!)

But I also feel like this cut is maybe just a tad too….Mom-ish? Or boring? Or something? The real test will be how it looks after I wash it and don’t have the salon blow-dry version. I kinda want it to look a little more messy and kooky. It could also end up looking like crap. We shall see.

Finally, here is me taking a picture of myself, totally ignoring Carlo as he’s trying to show me the back of my hair. When I was done, he said, “You’re such a nerd.” (He’s been cutting my hair for years, so he can say that kind of thing. Anyway, it’s true.)