As said in this post, I don't brush or comb my hair;
my locks are the epitome of low maintenance and I cut it once a year.
The minute I leave the studio, I take my hair from its tight bun and let it fly.
I can't deny that I love getting compliments on my hair-
it reminds me of New Testament times when a woman's hair was a symbol of her womanhood,
or when Jo cut her hair in Little Women and Amy said it was her one true beauty.
When Mary washed Jesus' feet, it didn't come without great sacrifice.
When Jo cut her hair, I remember thinking,
"No! Laurie will never love her now!"
I love having long hair.
I love how it whips in the wind like a beach goddess rising out of the ocean.
I love how it falls down my back like a waterfall of blacks, reds, and the deepest browns.
But looking at these photos from Monterey, I realized,
"Dang. I need a comb. And a haircut."
It's getting ridiculous.
How can one be a beach goddess when one is slowly being strangled by her own head of hair?
I'll be honest, sometimes I think my hair looks a little... unkempt.
Take a look below.
|I look like a mad woman in this photo with even crazier hair.|
My hair is like a boa constrictor, slinking its way around my neck before going in for the kill.
Because I love you all and I need an outside opinion,
I'll solicit your advice:
Cut or no cut?
Wannabe beach goddess hair or cute, trendy cut?
Signature long locks or something a little more fun?