A few weeks ago, I went in to get a long overdue cut and color. I had planned to get a trim, maintain my quasi-blond color and chop my bangs. Imagine my surprise when I walked out of the salon with six-inches less hair, bleach blond tresses and no bangs. Usually, I am far from spontaneous when it comes to such life-altering decisions as how to cut my hair (except for that crazy hair-hacking fiasco that occurred at Paul Mitchell's Hair School my sophomore year of college. I try to block that incident out of my memory). However, I went for something bold, brave and daring all on a whim. And here are the results (and keep in mind the photographers, myself and Will, leave a lot to be desired):
(and, thankfully, no hate mail sent to Amy Holdaway) and I'm learning to embrace my spontaneous, saucy new hair-do, as well as appreciate my new-found maturity--even if it is fifteen years too late.