Hair Cuts at Home

I have had the same hair stylist for twelve years.

I have wanted a real undercut for at least the past three.

I had plenty of chances when I was in Minnesota to take the plunge and shave the sides of my head, relaxed and safe in the hands of the woman who knew my hair best. Did I do it? No.

Yet now that my stylist is gone along with so many other things I was familiar with in my native land, I sat down at the kitchen table on a Tuesday night and let a man I've known for only a month and a half take a buzz cutter to my head.

Am I crazy? Maybe a little. But I have several friends that swear by home hair cuts.

Here's how it went down:

I started the night with my hair looking like this. A little grown out, but still acceptable. Certainly not long enough to be a bother, and not even particularly "feminine," which I hate my hair being.

And then the buzzer ignited. Or at least it felt like it ignited because this wasn't a salon and you didn't block off the lines first and oh YOU'RE COMING RIGHT AT ME WITH THAT THING.

But I had been assured repeatedly that my housemate was good at cutting hair; he cut the rest of the family's hair all the time.

So deep breath.

You picked this.

Gotta do it now.

We did check all of the angles in the end. We worked slow. Lots of communication, like any good stylist should have with their client.

And damn if the result isn't awesome.

So instead of paying a salon stylist I had no trust in 25 bucks to cut my hair, I just let someone I (admittedly) also had no trust in cut it for free.

Right decision.

Or as my housemate-stylist would say, "Score!"

Now I can look just like several of my favorite musicians. Two hardcore Twin Cities rappers, and one trashy Europop boy band.

Not that I can be as photogenic as Astronautalis is.

But I can look pretty damn similar to Sims.

Now if only marginal resemblance translated into coincidental talent.

On the bright side: now I look just like Jedward, mommy! Just like I've always wanted!