Bonjour bonjour!
It’s once again Betty, although my little sister June is by my side as I write this. Consider it a collaboration.
This morning, at 11:00, I got a pixie cut for the first time in my life. My mom was about the same age when she first got a pixie cut. Maybe it’s genetic.
I have wanted a pixie cut for a long time, for a plethora of reasons, including the seemingly continuous heat waves in France, which have contributed greatly to my desire to chop off all my hair.
Besides the summer weather, I’ve also been craving concrete change in my life (for example: I’m moving to Prague for my upcoming semester), and a pixie cut is an efficient and harmless way to channel that craving.
Furthermore, as my mom has pointed out for years now, with a pixie cut, hair care is simplified tenfold. No more need to brush, far less time in the shower, less time spent managing it altogether.
I will miss the excuse to practice French braiding, but other than that, the relief is palpable.
Lastly, this has been in the plan for well over a year now. I got bangs in December, which is essentially a rite of passage for daughters in my family. From that moment on, the plan has been to get a pixie cut come summertime. Turning twenty and lingering in my desire for renewal finally pushed me to make it happen today.
Here was the photographic inspiration I showed the hairstylist for my pixie cut: