Beyonce Wind Machine Hair

wind-machineLet me paint you a picture. …

This morning I actually took the time to do my hair. And I’m not talking about just combing it, oh no. I ran a flat iron through it, AND … wait for it … styled it by slicking a front piece back with a bobby pin. It took time, placement, patience … talk about motivation on a Tuesday, am I right?

My walk to the train is about 8 minutes, maybe 6 sometimes if I’m really hustling. And yes, I’m usually hustling because I’m notoriously always late. But thanks to this “awesome” spring we’ve been having, I usually have to deal with the elements, whether it is bitterly cold in the morning, raining, or more recently, windy. Like obnoxiously windy where I fear I may get blown off the train platform. But honestly … that is just the beginning of my windssues (see what I did there).

Quite frankly, I think this “April showers brings May flowers” nonsense is a bunch of hogwash. It should be, “April wind storms brings really bad hair days to women.” Nothing infuriates me more than when I see a woman in a gust of wind looking like Beyonce with a wind machine on her. And I see them all the time. Me? Well, my hair usually does this really heinous dance when wind hits it. It’s like swing dancing with hair, except more annoying and less cool. Here are some of its moves:

1. The Fling Around: Makes your hair look like a bad toupee with a weird fake comb over
2. The Smack Across The Face: Need I say more?
3. Low Visibility: Hair gets in your eyes making it difficult to see in front of you (yes, I have walked into things before)
4. The Illusionist: Hair flings to the opposite sides of your face creating a fake beard
5. The Glossy: Hair in lip gloss, my favorite and yours (nothing like the ends of your hair being covered in sticky gloss that you can do nothing about until you shower)

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Never once does my hair get flung backwards in some sexy, fantastic super model fashion. Never. Once. I’m always that girl trying to casually keep my shit together as my hair flies around like Medusa. And then you end up on the train, like me this morning, thankful that you no longer are getting blown around like a rag doll, thinking you look just as good as you did when you left the house, only to catch a glimpse of yourself in the train car window to see you have an alfalfa-like piece of hair sticking straight out of your bobby pin. And that is when I quietly removed said bobby pins shamefully, deconstructing all of my hard work.

Sigh, so yeah to the Kate Upton’s of the world who always get caught in the perfect gust of wind, never ruining any hair style you worked so hard on … I hate your face … just a little.

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Choppin’ It Off!

elle-01-kim-kardashian-hFor as long as I can remember, I’ve had a love affair with the idea of having long hair. Perhaps it was the “always wanting what you don’t have” syndrome, but as a little girl, my mother kept my insanely curly hair rather short, and I always wanted the Little Mermaid’s hair … but brunette, of course.

Flash forward to present day and my hair is long. Long … and not doing anything. Yawn. And then I came across my high school graduation photo and literally my hair looks exactly the same. Same color. Same length. Same part. And … sigh … that photo was taken almost 10 years ago. Yowza. Mind you my hair has been through a lot of colors and lengths since then, but right now … it’s like I’m 17 years old again … except … well … a tad more aged … JUST a tad.

I was in DIRE need of change. And not because I had a bad break up or going through a transition or hate life, but just because a simple change to something like your hair can be SO damn refreshing. But I’ve already fallen down the ombre hole, did the layers thing, changed my hair color a million different ways, and the only thing shocking I have left is blonde, and that AIN’T happenin’. So what is left?

Well, I was bored one day and took a Buzzfeed quiz (oh shush, who doesn’t take those quizzes … they are addictive), asking “what hair style I should have,” and I got the long bob. I immediately got intrigued, but scratched my head, laughed and said … “haha … noooooo.”

I suppose it stayed in the back of my head, because this past Monday I was catching up on celebrity gossip (I know, I sound like SUCH a sophisticated Interwebs explorer, right?) and stumbled upon Kim Kardashian’s new do, which happened to be a long bob, and all of a sudden I said without thinking about it, “screw it, I’m doing it.”

Literally all I kept thinking was, “yes, let’s do this. I want to do this now. How fast can this happen? I want all of my hair gone. Holy crap.” In the matter of minutes I had booked my hair appointment for Thursday (tomorrow), went on Pinterest and found some long bob styles I liked, and texted all of my friends asking what they thought. Green lights all around.

Usually I would be peeing myself in fear. The last time I drastically got my hair cut was right before I graduated college and this awful stylist made me look like a newscaster from the 1980’s. I was BEYOND pissed. Usually I can keep control of my face while they style my hair, but she just kept asking, “are you mad? Do you like it? You don’t look happy.” No, bitch, I’m not happy. And since then I burned all of my graduation pics for I had an awful puffy hair cut and I was like 15 pounds over weight due to beer consumption. Cool, self.

So I decided this time it will be different. And the fact that I’m so positive about it and all about YES, I feel confident. And christ, it’s hair. It will grow back … right? Ahhh I’m like 73.4% excited and the rest scared shitless. I believe the worst part is when my stylist will do the first rather large chop. Ugh. Hopefully I don’t “Top Model-style” start to cry. Times like these I wish I had a reality show. “TURN OFF THE CAMERAS. I’M :::hyperventilating::: NOT :::hyperventilating::: FILMING :::hyperventilating::: THIS!” I kid … I wouldn’t be THAT much of a diva.

So I’m putting my fears into the universe … honestly … so that way I won’t obsess over them until 5:30 tomorrow when it will all go down.

1. I’m worried this long bob will give me fat face (I told you I’m being 100% honest here)

2. I’m worried my hair won’t look like Kim K’s and instead look like a 1980’s newscaster again

3. I’m worried it will be too puffy and out-of-control

4. I’m worried I won’t master the beachy, flowy long bob look

5. I’m worried it will ruin me (I don’t even know what that means, but … yeah … I’m scared)

So there it is. I need positive vibes tomorrow around 5:30 p.m. I decided I’m going to embody Man Repeller who chops her hair off at the drop of a hat and doesn’t give a shit. Sometimes … you just need to take a plunge. Less thinking … more plunging.

Stay tuned for the aftermath!

Ps. If this goes poorly … I blame Kim Kardashian and Buzzfeed. That is all.

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Hey, Remember 90s Hair Accessories?

lDid anyone else get beat up by the ice cold wind this morning? I mean my hair was all over the place; in my face, in my mouth, straight up doing a ballet around my head. My only fear was that I was rocking an Alfalfa-like hair style after it was all said and done. I would totally be that guy on the train, ear buds in, acting all cool, as I have a piece of hair sticking straight up. It reminds me of the time my fly was down on the train and a verbose old lady announced it to me … AND the entire train car. Old Lady: “Sweetie … :::points to my pants::: and smiles Me: What? Old Lady: SWEETIE … I SAID YOUR FLY IS DOWN!” Good times.

Lucky for me everything was in place, besides my part, which looked like I had dropped acid before doing my hair. Which reminded me of something: Hey … remember the late 90’s/early 2000’s? Seeing this zig-zag part immediately took me back to my days as a kid/tween when the only thing that mattered in life were hair accessories and styles. Like once upon a time, it was REALLY cool to zig-zag your part. I mean if one of the characters on Friends did it, of COURSE it was. Derh. So let me take you back to a time when I only got style tips from stars of ABC’s TGIF, Stephanie Tanner, The Olsen Twins, and Nickelodeon.

Butterfly Clips: Oh yeah, that was the stuff. I mean who WOULDN’T want to slow dance with a girl who twisted little strands of hair and clipped them back with a butterfly clip in order to give her this hallo of glittery clip magic at the top of her head? Am I right?

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Scrunchies: There was nothing better in life. Now if you were caught in public rocking one, I’m pretty sure you would get stoned to death. But back in the day I would invest in scrunchies that matched outfits, that were absurdly glitterified, and of course, you just HAD to get ones specifically so you could bunch the side of your Tweety Bird sweatshirt. Stephanie Tanner made this shit exceptionally cool.

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Headbands: I wore a headband with pretty much everything I owned from age 4 to around 10. But unfortunately I never wore headbands “properly”. Hmph … don’t ask me why. They were always in the middle of my forehead, and when people would try to fix it for me, I would like hiss at them. But because of how I rocked my headbands, my family insisted upon calling me Jordi from Star Trek. For those of you who don’t know who Jordi is and why they called me this, example A. at the bottom. Sigh … excuse me I have to go call my therapist.

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The Britney: Umm hi, if you were at an age to appreciate this music video … you rocked this look, even if it was in the privacy of your basement as you tried to perfect her moves … not like … I did … that … or … anything :::shifty eyes:::.

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Bandanas: When I hit puberty and my hair went insanely curly … I turned to bandanas. I only had a few, and I used to think by mixing them with outfits that clearly didn’t match meant that I was turning into Carrie Bradshaw. Clearly. Skinny as a rail, awkwardly tall, palette expander, braces, awful Brillo-like hair … rockin’ the bandana. Cool, self, cool.

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Accessories You Had No Idea What To Do With: Like this guy … the spring comb scrunchie. I owned one, who didn’t? But it NEVER worked. And if it did, it never looked right and then would awkwardly pop off in the back. Please tell me why these were “cool”, again?

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Beyonce Is Brainwashing Us

1375967866000-beyonce-pixiePhase 1:
Queen Bey chops off her “hair” into a pixie cut which causes hysteria amongst the masses. Breaking News headlines erupted, bloggers went absolutely insane, and even CNN covered the story … must have been a slow news day, huh, kids? No wars … poverty … destruction to cover? No? Alright, Beyoncé’s new do it is.

Me? Well, I wasn’t that shocked. I just assume all celebrities wear weaves, extensions, and/or wigs … because I would if I was famous. And honestly, who the hell can have long, luscious, chemically treated locks that look THAT good ALL the time … am I right? So, again, I just assumed that she took the extensions out and chopped off what was left into a fierce pixie. Not that big of a deal … not that mind-blowing. But according to sources, those long luscious locks were all hers. Mmmm hmmm and I just wake up looking natural beautiful every day. Pa-lease. And if you did, Beyoncé … why didn’t you post pics of the several inches of hair you hacked, hmmm? That moment is totes Instagram-worthy … so what’s the deal?

Brainwashed Status: Psssssh, please :::flips hair:::

Phase 2:
More people start talking about, and by more people I mean everyone in the world. I swear monks that have taken a vow of silence uttered, “did you see Beyoncé cut all of her hair off?!”

I began to get irritated, yet intrigued, over people’s idiotic statements like, “I’m going to sell my tickets to see her concert because what is Beyoncé without her hair?” Umm … whaa? A woman with that kind of endless amounts of dough could make a splash and chop all of her hair off and the next day have a flaming red bob with blunt bangs. I mean, give me a break.

But I couldn’t help thinking about the balls it took to do something so drastic like chopping your hair off. In fact, I found myself bringing it up in conversation: “So how about Bey’s pixie cut, huh?” What was happening?! I curled up in a small ball and began stroking my long, somewhat luscious locks thinking to myself, “I would never hurt you like that.”

Brainwashed Status: Bey is creepin’ on in.

Phase 3:
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All it took was one more person.

I was sitting at my desk, minding my own business, checking my Instagram (no I wasn’t, employer, I was doing … my … job :::thumbs up:::) when I saw one of my favorite models, Coco Rocha, in the process of getting her luxurious locks chopped into a pixie.

What. Was. Going. ON!?

The end product was amazing. She looked fierce. Compared to her pixie, her long hair was yawn worthy and dull. But stop. Wait. She is a model. She is always fierce. But this hair cut put me in a trance. Beyoncé looked amazing, now Coco … maybe I should …

Status: BOOM. BRAINWASHED.

For a hot minute I thought to myself, maybe JUST maybe the big change I needed in my life was to chop off all my hair. Think of how easy the maintenance would be. No more long showers conditioning my long locks, no more hours straightening and flat ironing and curling. I could just shake it out, blow it out, and be done. And then I remembered I had curly hair. And this vision flashed before my eyes for some reason:

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What had happened to me?! Had I gone insane. Abso-frikin-lutely I had! I have thick, unruly, kinky curly hair. And I’ve worked YEARS tirelessly to get my hair to this length. Why, sweet Jesus why, would I do something like that to myself?! Sure, if I had a dream team of people who could 24/sev touch up my hair during humid days and constantly reassure me that my head didn’t look ginormous and that I don’t look like a dorky, teenage boy … sure. Yes! Sign me up … but those things just aren’t in the cards now, are they?

Listen, I appreciate the Twiggy throwbacks, but I really hope this doesn’t become a “thing”, because ladies, you need to be a special person to pull off the pixie. You need to think about your personality, your style, what kind of hair you have (curly girls … avoid and use caution), your outlook on life, etc and so forth. Because some women chop of their hair and it only accentuates their beauty, and others … well … yowsa. If we could all have pixie cuts one day and long flowing locks the next like Queen Bey, well, we would, now wouldn’t we?

Sigh. Nice try with the brainwashing, Bey, now if you would excuse me, I need to go whip my long, semi-luxurious locks back and forth for funsies.

Dear Pinterest, …

I spend most of my Saturday mornings Pinning. Some read the New York Times, watch the news, drink coffee and have a nice conversation with family or friends … I lay in bed and Pin. I live and die for you, which we all probably know by now, and the things I Pin to my Wall of Awesome are styles I actually want to try to rock, or just things that inspire my personal style. I literally just said if I had a wish right now, it would be to try on every one of my Pins … well … most of them at least.

But something that really bothers me, that I can’t for the life of my wrap my head around is something that I like to call “Pinterest hair.” I define this term as messy hair styles that look absolutely chic and gorgeous. You know, one of those that looks effortless but probably took an hour to get right. Do you know how many hours I’ve spent trying to obtain this “Pinterest hair?” TOO many. It’s infuriating. These Pin-worthy messy buns look like something one would see on the runways. My messy bun looks like I had the flu, went to bed with my hair up, slept on it all night with a fever, woke up, got dressed and went out with my hair just like that.

Sometimes I don’t really feel like sitting there, straightening my hair, making it perfect, or even putting some soft curls in it just for the sake of going to run errands or to do some light shopping. THIS is when I crave Pinterest hair the most. I want to be able to put on a cool outfit and just throw my long hair up like I don’t give a damn, and have it look Pin-tastic. But no, when I do it, I have bumps in all of the wrong places, or my hair is pulled back too tight making my face look odd, or I have long pieces of hair just sticking out making it look more like I’m about to go pump some iron then do some shopping. At a certain point I get so frustrated, rip the hair tie out, flip my hair over, run my fingers through it … and I call it a day.

Once again, you’ve set the bar quite high, Pinterest. These girls that get Pinned are always just like, “oh my God, I’m just standing in front of the Eiffel Tower in a pair of ripped jeans, a simple white T-shirt, red lipstick and my hair thrown on the top of my head in the coolest bun ever imagined that seems like it should be easy to pull off but isn’t … whatevs.” Or “it’s cool … I’m just standing on the corner of Madison Ave. with my super amazing fish tail braid that is kind of messy but somehow stays in place while I hail a cab in head to toe Chanel … sweet.” GRR. If I were to walk around any city with a fish tail braid in, by the time I got from A to B I would look like a tornado hit me. For serious.

I’ve even contemplated going to a hair stylist and having them teach me how to do Pinterest hair … yes I am THAT desperate. I mean for the love of God … all I want is to have a cool, nonchalant up-do. Is that too much to ask? So that is where I’m at right now, Pinning fabulous clothes and having massive, ridiculous hair envy. One day I’ll get it right, just one day.

Forever yours,

The girl who is insanely jealous of all girls who obtain Pinterest hair