Your quest for hair inspiration stops here.
WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MAKE A DRAMATIC CHANGE TO YOUR HAIR? THREE ELLE CANADA EDITORS FIND OUT.
LONG STORY SHORT On a whim last spring, I decided to keep track of my hairstyles for a week.
On Monday, my shoulder-length hair was pulled into a bun. Tuesday, same. Wednesday? A bun with a heaping of dry shampoo. By Friday, my hair still hadn’t been let out of its bobby-pin trap and I was getting restless. “What’s the point of having long hair if I can’t be bothered?” I thought as I stared into the mirror. I’ve always loved taking risks with my hair, but I was in a rut. A switch flipped. As if hypnotized, I soon found myself scrolling through a Tumblr account called “For the Girls Who Yearn for Shorter Hair” and Googling photos of Ruby Rose like my life depended on it. Within days, I’d booked an appointment at a salon that could easily be mistaken for a grungy tattoo parlour, hoping its edge would rub off on my hair.
The hum of the electric razor against my scalp gave me an adrenalin rush. Inches of hair fell to the ground, and I felt deliriously thrilled by the process. Forty-five minutes after
showing the stylist a photo of a model who looked like Tinker Bell crossed with Miley, I had buzzed sides and a messy, asymmetrical bouffant on top. On the walk home, I shamelessly caught my reflection in every possible surface, feeling free and pretty pleased with myself. I expected strangers on the street to congratulate me on my transformation. That evening, I threw a raucous party; my new hair was the surprise guest.
My new look has required new wardrobe choices. I’ve racked up an impressive amount of black clothing, and the men’s section holds new appeal. My closet holds less frilly vintage and more Alexander Wang. A swipe of dark lipstick packs twice the punch it used to. I love the new places this hairstyle takes me.
Cutting my hair short hasn’t given me more confidence; rather, it demands it in return. In those vulnerable moments, when I want to slip back into pretty beach waves or hide a pimple on my cheek with a side part, my confidence has to step it up. (My trick is to recall that moment in the stylist’s chair, when I felt a mix of amazement and joy at the unfamiliar result.)
As the dreaded grow-out phase looms, I wonder where I’ll find my next hair thrill. A platinum shade, extensions or some kind of plumage? I have absolutely no idea what I’ll look like this time next year, and that’s part of the excitement. I’m a work in (creative) process. LIZ GUBER
A photo on a Tumblr account featuring girls with short hair (right) drove workflow editor Liz to buzz hers off.