Fringe Worthy

There comes a time in many a woman’s life where she contemplates getting bangs. I have found myself, once again, at this particular crossroads. To bang, or not to bang, that is the question…

Long story short: I banged. I banged harder than a Ricky Martin song. This is my life now. I have bangs.


A couple years ago, I used some scissors from my BFF’s craft room and cut my own bangs, which my cousin fixed the next day. I liked my straight across,  blunt, Zooey Deschanel bangs, but opted for Sienna Miller curtain bangs this time around. Some more bangin’ inspiration:




On Saturday afternoon, I was sitting in the chair at my salon and right as my stylist was lifting his shears, I panicked and awkwardly seconded guessed all of the choices I’d made in my life that lead me to think that bangs were a good idea. He then gave me a look that said “get your shit together/ hair grows, dummy/there are more important things happening in the world to think and worry about other than your hair”.

Did I regret my decision to get bangs? Oh, immediately. But I have since gone through the five stages of grief that I always go through when I cut my hair:

  1. denial “oh no I DID NOT just get bangs”
  3. bargaining “okay okay I’ll pay you double if you can glue that hair on the floor back onto my head”
  4. depression “WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY, GOD, WHY?!” *hysterical crying*
  5. acceptance “I’m going to save a fortune on makeup for my giant forehead”
me, pulling off curtain bangs circa 1994
Blunt bangs circa 2012
No Drama Tee/ (similar), Jeans/Madewell, Sunglasses/Amazon

Now, if you all will excuse me… I have to go get to know this weirdo version of myself I keep seeing in the mirror.

6 thoughts on “Fringe Worthy”

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