With my funemployment and unpleasantly diminished funds, forcing prudent and thus boring financial decisions, I have grown lax with my hair styling and upkeep as of late. Though I had not quite attained some crazed Miss Havisham status in terms of my hair growing out, I was disappointed that, even in these times of economic strife, I had not been more vigilant about looking presentable and treating myself to, honestly, my sole beauty indulgence.
Since I had a hot date this morning with a potential new employer, which I will expound on later, I went crawling back to my stylist last night to fix my long layers and retrieve my bangs, which had grown rather far along down my head. Despite my extended absence, without even a call, or a letter, she welcomed me with open arms, wielding scissors and her trusted blow dryer, and she got to work. She even tested some new product, a mix between a wax and cream to help protect from heat damage, called Undressed; I have limited knowledge of and experience with such things, but from what I could tell, it was light, not sticky or greasy, and left a simple, clean sheen.
Even with the vengeance of my bangs, I do not claim to look nearly as alluring as dear fellow brunette Chan Marshall; however, her hair, like her voice, has always been an inspiration. Naturally, I adore the styling of this photograph as well, particularly the combination of the smokey, mysterious dark eye with tousled, men's style pieces. Long story short, my long hair is now slightly shorter, and I feel great, a burden lifted, and a bit of pampering given to myself. I vow to, hopefully, not allow this long of a salon break again.
(image taken from Strutten blog)
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