My search history has but one story to tell: How to grow out a pixie cut while holding on to my sanity and dignity.
I’ve grown my hair out a handful of times. Mostly because I hadn’t met the hairdresser with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my days. When I did find her, she lulled me into a false sense of security before leaving me high and hairy just two years later. As if fuelled by that heart-break, I left Melbourne 4 months after I found my second soul-hairmate. So much for commitment (almost said commit-mane-t, but I tucked that one away behind my ear).
When I was younger, I didn’t know of the mullet phase, so it never really bothered me. Later in life, there were bandanas. Interesting phase, that one. Since then, the whole experience of growing my hair out has only gotten worse.
Now, my hair is green fading into yellow. Black roots with grey strays. Dry as hay from all the bleach (totes worth it). And I have trust issues with new hairdressers.
There’s no bandana in the world that can help me.
I’d like to add to the overflowing pile of articles on how to grow out a pixie, but I can’t seem to look at my reflection long enough to try out different styles, let alone document them. So here’s my doomsday note.
Growing out a multi-coloured pixie cut will destroy you. By Payal Nair.
- Shape Shifting
At first, you’re still in the “At least it’s green” phase to notice the sudden lack of shape and control. It’s like Marge and Sideshow Bob spawned, and the newborn creature passed out drunk on your head. Every few hours it wakes up and trashes around in a wild rage and then slumps back down.
But at least it’s green.
- The Mullet
Everyone will warn you about this. The biggest no-no while growing out a pixie. Shave it off, trim it or just set it on fire, but never let it show.
- Oh Pixie ❤
Every day is a battle. Every day is a peace talk. Every day you miss your pixie. Every day you question your intentions. Every. Day.
When all the layers are finally long enough to hide any potential mullet. Just when I’m secure enough to style the mane, comes the worst thing I’ve ever seen. This, my friends, is my contribution to the hellish-world of pain that is growing out a pixie.
- THE TRUMP
On a beautiful day when your hair is soft and feels like it’s ready to cooperate, and you’re giddy with excitement about it, and just want to – STOP. The Trump is out to mock you and break you down. Do NOT trust the Trump. Even if your hair is a glorious green or blue or lilac, the Trump will hurt you. The Trump will promise to make you great again, but will only humiliate you. You’ll think, oh let me do that thing that all the have-it-together girls do. This.
The hairstyle seemed so…innocent. So…very…innocent.
But it turned against me with such venom, as I have never seen before.
This is my public service announcement: When growing out a pixie, be brave, especially when the Trump creeps in.
I got Trumped, so you don’t have to.