There's something about a woman's ability to do her hair that makes her especially feminine. Despite the fact that I've had long hair for about ninety percent of my life, I am by no means skilled at making it look nice. The important men in my life have always insisted I kept my hair long. When I was younger, my dad absolutely refused to let me cut my hair, and thus I grew it out to where I could actually sit on it. The first time I received any sort of major hair cut I was nearly twelve, and then my hair still remained below my shoulders. Once I reached high school, my boyfriend (now husband) repeatedly informed me how much more beautiful girls with long hair than those with short hair. And he used no uncertain words.
Last Thursday, I stood in front of our tiny bathroom mirror attempting to curl my hair for my date with my husband. It was the first time I'd unwound that cord since we've been married, and I tried to remember the last time I curled my hair before that...maybe Emily's wedding in June?
I'm certainly not my sister who became fascinated with styling hair while we were still playing with Barbie dolls. I was the guinea pig--not the stylist. I think I was fourteen the first time Karen cut my hair...and sliced open my neck. Fifteen, maybe, when she gave me a mullet. She was freshman in college when she decided I'd look better with dark, nearly black hair--though now she looks at the pictures and claims I look like a vampire. Thanks, Sis.
I'm definitely not my best friend from high school Ellyse, who now owns and operates her own hair salon, has styled brides for their big day, and has always kept her own hair looking chic and awesome. I still haven't mastered the french braid.
For most women, the ponytail is for working out or doing laundry. For me, the ponytail is about the only hairstyle I can accomplish with regular success. I wear a ponytial more often than not. In fact, my idea of a "fancy" hairstyle is a half-ponytail.
As I repeatedly wrapped small sections around that sizzling barrel, I pondered these very thoughts. Despite being inept at styling my own hair, I continue to keep it long. Even in my own mind, femininity and beauty are somehow intertwined with long locks.
It's only within the last few decades that women have dared to keep their hair short. At least culturally--a woman's long hair has been her beauty. I've never been an overly feminine woman, and maybe holding on tightly to long hair is my way of claiming that, despite being in my mid-twenties and childless, despite my lack of grace and elegance, despite my baby face, despite my overall lack of femininity, I am a woman and I can be beautiful.
