This is the thing, here’s the thing.
I know the Husband hates it when I cut my fringe. I know it because he’s told me so.
But being the independent woman I am, no man can control me or my inner crazy – because when I get an idea in my head, no matter how ludicrous, I must carry it out lest I go insane.
And my most recent craze was a change. A big change.
I was being brave.
I was getting a curly fringe.
What the eff is a curly fringe?
You see, the difference between a curly fringe and your run of the mill fringe is really rather simple – a curly fringe is curly and typically rocked by women with curly hair.
I mean there are good surprises like BJ’s in the shower…
But it’s a huge risk and I had to broach the subject with the Husband very carefully. Because despite my independence and determination, I also wanted my husband to still like me.
I mean there are good surprises like BJ’s in the shower and then there’s your wife spending $300 to come home looking like a European football player.
But I was brave and determined so it was only a matter of time before I said those fateful words… “Honey, I need to tell you something.”
He makes a funny face and waits for my confession.
“I’m gonna get a curly fringe…”
“What is a curly fringe? And don’t cry to me when you hate it!”
Bitch, please. That’s what bobby pins are for…
It was on!
This also means she has the skills and the guts to fix a crazy person’s hair and make them look shmick.
So I arrive to her candy-cake smelling salon, I’m greeted by her darling dog, King, they seat me, give me SPARKLING WATER – what is this wondrous place, I ask myself…?
Then the lady herself, Leigh, asks me ever so sweetly what I was rambling on about when I called her. I’m like “Yo, I’ve been thinking about this, and I want a curly fringe.”
Lovely as she is, she ignores the crazy look in my eye and asks for an example so I bust out my Pinterest and I show her a few of these ones:
She immediately understands. She’s on board. She’s confident. I want to take her as my wife.
And then she’s like, “But what about this colour you have going on? Can I, like, fix that shit for you?”
I’m like, “Fuck yea, let’s do that too…”
And so began Operation Curly Fringe.
Leigh wastes absolutely no time as she pulls out her wand, aka scissors, and without a hesitation, I hear a chop chop.
Just like that, I have a fringe!
But she’s not done. She hasn’t even started.
Foiling and highlighting and washing and head massaging ensues. And honestly, my head massage went on for around 20 minutes and I wasn’t even mad about it.
…when I look up, there’s an exotic creature in my reflection.
Back in the chair I go and this is where the work really starts as she grabs what seemed like 12 different pairs of scissors, each doing their own thing, to shape, mould, create our mutual vision.
She’s drying, she’s straightening, she’s curling; she’s magical to watch.
When I finally look up, there’s an exotic creature in my reflection and I wish I could keep her and her Jennifer Aniston-esk hair forever.
And it’s ok. I too wish I put some make up on for the ‘after’ photo occasion. But alas, it wasn’t to be.
Keepin’ it real
As much as I adored my new hair and it’s style, what I really wanted, what I absolutely needed, was to see my fringe in all it’s curly glory. Will it look good? Can I style it good?
There was only one way to find out.
So the very next day, I wash my freshly done hair and… well… you be the judge.
Yep, I looked like Anne of Green Gables.
But I tried and tried again, put some make up on, filtered that shit, and there we have it – a Pinterest worthy curly fringe, y’all!
But what about the Husband?
I know you’re all dying to know what the Husband’s verdict was.
And, well, he… likes it, I guess.
Certainly, he would burst into laughter every time he saw me that first day. That was fine for a little while, but then I told him that if he didn’t stop, I would start bursting into laughter every time he showed me his penis.
That worked and he continued on his merry way – silently.
But I think it’s slowly growing on him, considering that fringes are not divorce worthy.
So there you have it – I was brave and I prevailed!
Thanks for all the love of my new style and tell me – are you thinking of making a style change?
Peace out, and remember – don’t be a dick!