Diaries Magazine

Me Oh My: a Haircut

Posted on the 25 July 2013 by Augustabelle
ME OH MY: A HAIRCUT
ME OH MY: A HAIRCUT
ME OH MY: A HAIRCUT
ME OH MY: A HAIRCUT
ME OH MY: A HAIRCUT
ME OH MY: A HAIRCUT
ME OH MY: A HAIRCUT
I'm beginning to realize the monumental importance of investing in oneself. Whether it be by eduation, leisure, pampering, or just a little free time here and there, taking the initiative to put yourself first is really, really important. As a mother, I often (read: always) put my children in the forefront of my mind, and dedicate one thousand percent of my energy to their happiness, as a mother should. But the other day it dawned on me, in an epiphany sort of way, that the way that I feel about myself influences the way that I feel about life, and the way that I feel about mothering, and somehow, I'm sure, the way that I'm teaching my kids to feel about themselves. It was a moment when I felt like I'd been running and running and was out of energy and out of breath, and looked like a hot sweaty food-stained mess, and I glanced in a mirror and said to myself, "It's ok- I'm a mom."
Oh, hell no.
I used to be the kind of girl who dreamed of living in Breakfast at Tiffany's. I used to be the kind of girl who would go giddy over what to wear to a party or a gallery opening, or even to the grocery store. I used to always say to myself, as I did my hair in the crooked antique mirror in my little apartment, "I live in New York City, and you never know who you're gonna meet just walking down the street!".  I'm happy that I am not that girl anymore.  My time is put towards grander and more sacred things these days.  But in all honesty, I miss being pulled together and feeling on top all of the time.
And so I decided to make an effort to put myself first in line, some of the time. I made an appointment with the hair genius Jamie and took myself out for a little afternoon of pampering.  I hadn't been in for a haircut in years.  After years of hair modeling in NYC in the early 2000's, I consider myself scarred by the stylist world (a black and white bob, blue faux hawk, extensions, and a shaved head are amongst the most traumatic of my modeling days), and am ridiculously picky when it comes to who I let touch my hair.  I vowed to cut it myself for the rest of my life, but that ended up not looking so cute. Then I found Jamie. And I fell in love.  I've been to a gazillion stylists, and she is something else.  Instead of scissors, she uses a straight razor to cut hair, and it makes your hair have this unbelievable swing that lightness that is amazing.  (Also- almost like magic, every time she cuts my hair, good things start happening in my life.  It's nuts).  Luckily I caught her in between fashion weeks, so she was in her salon instead of running around the world doing hair for the shows, so she got me right in.  Thank goodness too, because between my naturally wild mane, summer humidity, and blotchy postpartum hair loss, it was time. It really was time.
I had Biet come with me to the salon at first to try to familiarize her with the whole hair-cutting process, because the day is fast approaching when her curly locks will need their first trim, and I have a feeling she might freak out.  She stayed for a few minutes and watched in amusement, and then ran off to the park with her Papa. And then it was just Jamie and me, chatting and laughing like old friends.  She talked me down from chopping off all of my hair (Thank you Jamie! And no thanks to you Pinterest for putting all those crazy pixie cut ideas in my head!), and still ended up cutting out about half of the weight of my hair off!
Spending a couple of hours without the kids, without work, and without anyone to be concerned about except for yourself, is downright therapeutic.  It's good for my soul and my sanity, and in turn becomes good for my entire family.  It's something that I now believe has truly been missing from my life of late, and something that I plan to remedy in every way that I can.  Gaby and I are already scheduling blocks of hours each week when each one of us can run off for a while independently.  I'm really excited to walk around and experience the city again sans stroller, sans crying, with nothing but the hat on my head and the shoes on my feet.  I might even grab a danish one morning and wander up to Tiffany's.  :)

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