I’m surprisingly cheap.
(My parents are the most surprised, let me tell you, and perhaps wish the onset of my thriftiness had been a little sooner.)
This frugality is the reason I overreact to spills, scrape every last bit of sour cream out of the container, and still wear shirts from high school. BUT it’s also the reason we have a beautiful mid-century desk for $0 (thank you Buy Nothing!), garage sale treasures galore, and . . . wait for it . . . home haircuts.
When my husband and I married, my mother-in-law gave me a haircutting kit, explaining that cutting hair was, “the only thing I still do for him.” My husband viewed this as a purely symbolic gift, and proceeded to make an appointment at SUPERCUTS as soon as he felt it was necessary.
Luckily, after paying for thirty minutes of excruciating small talk with a stranger (in addition to, you know, the haircut), he agreed to let me try, and I now have almost thirteen years experience cutting one man’s hair. Pretty handy right now, hmm?
Unfortunately, this doesn’t make me an expert, and I totally butchered my son’s first haircut. (See “before” picture above; don’t I look optimistic? I’ll spare you the “after.”)
I got better with time, but when my daughter’s first haircut rolled around many years later, I wasn’t confident enough to ruin her beautiful hair. So to my stylist we went. (Yes, my stylist; I don’t recall my mother giving Marcus a Madison Reed gift card on our wedding day.)
I thought this might be a fun mother-daughter date, but my girl was very serious. When she sat in the chair, she was blinking back tears and gritting her teeth. We tried reassuring her, but she just stared stoically forward as if we were amputating a limb or something.
When it was finally over, she looked shocked. She said, “That’s it?”
Then she shuddered with relief and began to sob.
She thought we were cutting it all off.
Like her brother’s.
Good luck with those home haircuts and happy reading!
For much silliness, check out, The Hair of Zoe Fleefenbacher Goes to School.
Crown: An Ode to the Fresh Cut is absolutely wonderful. I want a copy in every classroom, because it “hooks up your intellectual.”
Check out Wilfred for some fabulous hair-sharing.
Speaking of hair-sharing, don’t forget about Jo March‘s “one beauty.”
If you’re wondering what my son’s first haircut looked like, just imagine it to be somewhere in the neighborhood of Henry Huggins‘s at-home cut.
I first saw the short film Hair Love as a preview before Greta Gerwig’s Little Women, and I felt that it alone was worth the cost of admission.
My Hair is a Garden,is a lovely read celebrating natural black hair.
Don’t Touch My Hair is an important read, fun and firm.