this week’s contributor is from lashley rhodes, a local denver photographer (among other things) and one of my best friends. i knew our friendship was meant to be when she chopped off all her hair as, i must confess, i’ve always been a little suspicious of long-haired women who freak out about taking off a couple of inches. it’s just hair and it grows! (this, of course, coming from me who has absolutely no success in healthily growing my hair even to my shoulders.) here lashley talks about what she discovered about herself after she went short short short.
|| In college, I had some adventuresome strip-mall cut and color combos, but only after moving to Denver did I really start playing with different ways to wear my hair. For about seven years, it was a series of variations on a bob. After my wedding last year, though, I took the plunge and went super short. Here are some things I’ve learned about myself since then.
1. I am not as progressive as I’d like to think.
I live in Colorado. I love all sorts of different humans and love real love between any two of them. I voted to legalize recreational marijuana, for goodness sake. But look like a boy or, heavens, a lesbian? Can’t do it. I’m not even sure what it means to “look like a lesbian,” but if I put together an outfit and the thought crosses my mind, that outfit gets rejected. My hair is shorter than my husband’s, but I still want to look feminine in the most annoying, gender-binary-driven, traditional way. I’m not sure how to interpret this tidbit except maybe to show some grace to those who seem forever stuck in the social dark ages. We all need a little nudge to keep moving forward.
2. The grass will always seem greener.
I absolutely know deep down in my very soul of souls that I do not miss the squinty, sweaty face I’d get when blow drying my long bob. But, oh, to have long, soft waves that catch the light just so. Or a top knot. Side braids, an ombre dye job, strong, face-framing bangs. Le sigh.
3. This too shall pass, but in the meantime, you gotta commit.
Whining and marinating in ambivalence aren’t going to get me anywhere. Spray that faux pompadour into place or wrap a scarf around and go, but do something and quit staring at the mirror with that look on your face, Rhodes. ||
sheesh, she’s adorable. thanks, lashley. what honesty, insight ,and humor you bring to a decision that seems to hold so much weight, especially for the ladies. i applaud you’re “going for it” and, girl, you wear it so so well.
if you are interested in contributing to A Denver Home Companion, please submit original writing (or ideas!) to emily [at] adenverhomecompanion [dot] com. though i may not be able to publish everything, i certainly consider all of them.