Hall of Records

I got received this yesterday and only wanted to read a page or two before going to sleep. I ended up snort-giggling with tears streaming down my face. It was the eyebrow-incident! It reminded me of my own attempts to bring my outgrown fringe back into the fluffy shape that was en vogue back in the late 1980s (I was 12 or 13 at that time). Of course, I lacked the proper equipment my mom’s friend, a professional hairdresser, used to cut it the way I liked so much. Equipped with a pair of mundane household scissors I set to work carefully but enthusiastically. I thought I knew how to do this in theory. It just wouldn’t fluff the right way, though. Obviously, I had to cut off some more. Then it was uneven and still not particularly fluffy. I had to rectify this by trimming some more – until I had it down to only a few centimetres and had to admit defeat. I think my mom almost cried when she saw me that night. I’m not going to repeat what she likened me to here. Suffice it to say that she refused to be seen with me for the next couple of weeks.

When I told my partner this morning he reminded me of his own attempts to cut his hair in an undercut fashion, what we used to call a façon style back then. He decided to use his father’s razor (for wet shaving) and removed a big chunk of hair from the back of his head.

And ah, to be a whiny 14-year old again! Uh, no. I’m glad that I’ve left this period in my life far, FAR behind.