Hair Dilemmas

I?ve finally decided I want Ellen to cut her hair. Well, that?s not totally right. I?ve decided I want Ellen to start doing something different with her hair. Not that I don?t like her hair now. I adore it. It is pretty healthy and basically all one length reaching the bottom of her very shapely bottom. It does thin out a bit the last 6 or so inches, but then what woman with very long hair doesn?t have such a problem. It is magnificent to look at and touch, and all my life I?ve been especially drawn to women with long hair; the longer the better. In fact I can only name a few, if any, women with short hair to whom I was attracted, and still felt they would look better if they let theirs grow at least a bit.
So enthralled with this long hair thing am I that I?m sure my own hair would trail far down my back if only I could, but my job as a teacher demands ?politically correct? hair, so mine is as long as I can in reality get away with, which is covering my ears (though styling gel and hairspray keeps it glued back during work), covering the upper part of my collar (almost long enough for a bit of a pony tail), and long bangs that easily fall into my eyes when not brushed back.
So why would I want Ellen, the love of my life, to cut her precious locks? Because I?m bored sick by them, that?s why. Hair to me, especially on women, is something that you should have fun with, play with, and do endless different things with much like changes in clothes and makeup. And I personally believe that longer hair should have more options than short hair. After all, a person with 1,000 construction blocks can build more stuff than someone with only 100. Hair should work the same way. With all of Ellen?s length and thickness she should be able to do countless different looks, etc? But she doesn?t. And for the 15 years I?ve known her she hasn?t. And if I believe she will in the next 15 years, or 50 for all that matters, I?m kidding myself. Ellen does three things with her hair. Mostly she has it in a French braid. That damned French braid (!), tight to her head, drawing all her gorgeous length behind her looking so very boring and predictable. Granted sometimes she changes the way she does the French braid, with different parts or numbers of braids, but it still does nothing for me. Plus she wears it braided to bed, which really puts a damper on my sexual energy. I want it flowing at least so I can touch it and be enveloped by it, maybe even wrapped around my penis so I can come in it, etc? But no, just that stupid braid whacking me in the face. She braids it to keep it out of her way, and so that it ends up in waves when she takes it down. Her hair will stay wavy all day, and she wears it in waves every day. Every single day. Her only styling options are whether she keeps it all hanging down, which she does very rarely, or if she draws the front part back clipped at her crown so it doesn?t fall in her face, which she does 95% of the time it?s not braided (She even wore it that way when we married). And that?s it. No buns, no updos, she doesn?t even own curlers or a blow dryer. Not even a pony tail, or pigtails. She never even wears it straight! In 15 years I?ve never seen her with straight hair, except when she?s combing it out after washing it. But it gets braided right away as soon as the last tangles are out. Ellen does own a curling iron, but uses it only on her bangs. And my God what an ordeal getting bangs was, as she pondered that decision for 2 years, and was so nervous when she got it done you would have thought she was getting a sex change or something. Granted if she didn?t like them it would take years to grow them out again, but still! Thankfully she likes her bangs and has kept them for a good 5 years now. Personally I?m sick of them too.
I?m at the point now where I have to fantasize in bed to make love to her. Not about other women because she means everything to me, but about her doing something different with her hair. I would kill to see it straight, or curled, or maybe up in some fancy updo with tons of pins that I could slowly unravel for her. I?ve even imagined her in some outdated, hideously teased bouffant, just to do something completely different. THAT WOULD BE SO GREAT!!! But it?s not going to happen. It hasn?t happened in 15 years, and I?d be crazy to think it will ever happen.
Ellen knows how I feel, but has her canned answers. She doesn?t like how she looks with straight hair (though how she?d know is beyond me), so she won?t wear it straight. She?s tried putting it up (maybe she?s spent 15 minutes of effort in her life trying) and even had a friend try (one with far less hair knowledge than Ellen herself) and says it won?t work because she has far too much hair. (Of course I see movies with women with hair equal in length to hers with their hair up in attractive updos all the time, but of course ?they? don?t count). As far as curling goes, she says her hair is too long to make the effort unless she wanted to use products on her hair, and the combination of products and curlers would be potentially damaging so that was not even a consideration.
In fairness to Ellen she does look awesome with her long hair. She keeps trying to grow it even longer but it won?t. It?s been its present length for the entire time I?ve known her. As a child her parent forced her to keep it chopped in a very unflattering look just above her shoulders. I?ve seen pictures of her in that cut and, true to her word, she looked far worse than one could imagine. It had no semblance of any style, almost like her parents were trying to keep her from looking like the beautiful woman she would become. Did they want her to be the ?ugly duckling?? As soon as her hair became her own choice Ellen grew it out, probably in defiance of her parents who to this day constantly express their dislike of the length. Personally I think Ellen is now a prisoner to her hair, unwilling to cut it since it might mean she thus succumbed to the wishes of her parents, and unwilling to take any chances at all with it fearing the damage might start her on a steady cycle of trims which would ultimately prove the death of her long hair, with it constantly becoming shorter and shorter until it finally met with her parents approval. Deep down I believe Ellen too wants to do new things with her hair, but is now frozen. She asks my opinion all the time, shooting my responses down of course. But still she keeps asking. When she sees women on television, etc? she constantly asks what I think of their hair, especially when it is something elaborate or a new look for that person. She?ll even go so far at times as to ask if I think she?d look good with her hair like that. I am very honest with my answers too. Our relationship was built on honesty. In fact nothing I?ve written down so far would be at all surprising to Ellen. She?s heard it all before, numerous times.
So anyway, I want Ellen to cut her hair, and that is saying a lot considering how much I love it. The thing is, I don?t know how I want it cut. Parts of me say just a bit, to her waist or something, or keep it safe like mid back length. Other parts of me say a shoulder length ?Bob?, the length stylists say offers the most variety, is the answer. Heck, parts of me want her to cut it really short, like a guy, and then I?d get to witness all the varieties of looks as she grows it out again. But, I fear, what if she didn?t want to grow it out again? Could I bear never again seeing her in long hair. Never getting to brush it for her again, and feeling it against my arms when I hold her, and against my body. I don?t know if I could handle that. Maybe I was a prisoner to her long hair too! If only she?d do things with it at its present length I?d be happy.
Growing up I loved Halloween. I became even more enamored with it in college, as costume parties were all the rage, and the more elaborate your costume the more popular you became, not just that night but for a long time afterwards. I shudder to think of some of the costumes that I wore.
Ellen has never quite been the fan that I am of wild costumes, but has slowly been coming around. Of course she always goes as something like a fairy princess, or Guenevere, or some kind of long haired beauty. Nothing that would force her to do something different with her hair of course. But over the past years I planted a seed of a costume that I was ready to try and permanently plant this year, and maybe it could lead to something new hair-wise for her. It first happened when we saw the film ?Somewhere in Time?, with Jane Seymour and Christopher Reeves. We were both taken with the vision of Miss Seymour with her hair up in a splendid and full ?Gibson Girl?, and I made no doubt that I would love to see Ellen in such a look for Halloween. First she dismissed it as a wig, but later in the movie it was obvious it wasn?t a wig, and then she dismissed it for the damaging teasing, etc? that one would have to endure to accomplish such a style.
?I would never be able to undo all that teasing,? she said. ?I?d have to cut my hair if I had my hair done like that.?
Boy did that ever hit a nerve! I?ve been driven to see her hair like that ever since, either to prove her wrong about the damage to her hair, or maybe even to prove her right! I even set about far in advance trying to find costumes for both of us so we could look like the couple. When that turned up nothing, I had them secretly custom made.
Of course looking like Christopher Reeve was going to be a bit of a sacrifice on my part too. I?d have to shave off my beard and mustache, color my blonde hair dark brown, and get a pretty significant haircut. But I found myself willing to do all this if just for the opportunity to see Ellen, and her hair, looking like the starring role. I even found a stylist in town named Joan who professed she could do the style for her. Joan had some experience working with theatre productions and even some commercials as a hairdresser, and knew the tricks of producing some of the more dated styles. As Ellen said it involved teasing her hair, although by using a form that could fit under the style the amount of teasing would be very minimal (and only at the roots), and she assured that no damage would come of it.
?What if you didn?t use the form?? I asked her.
?With her long hair I?d never consider doing that.?
?Why not??
?I?d have to backcomb it all very severely just to have a chance. It would definitely suffer some damage as a result, no matter how healthy it is now. In fact the odds are she?d have to cut the knots out.?
?But if she used the form???
?It wouldn?t harm it at all. Especially if it?s as healthy as you say it is.?
I thanked her, and learned she could also cut and color my hair for me. I secretly reserved a time slot for Ellen and I the day of the party to have it all done. Of course I still had a lot of convincing to do.
But I didn?t stop there. I talked to other stylists about the possibility of duplicating the look in the movie. Most wouldn?t attempt it, claiming no experience with such looks, and advised me to just buy a wig for her that evening, or offering me referrals that also amounted to nothing. But then I talked to a woman named Vivian, an older woman who ran a shop out of her home. At first she just laughed about the whole suggestion.
?I could do it for her no problem, though she?d be crazy to do such a thing to her hair.?
?Why?? I asked innocently.
?Because I?d absolutely have to rat the hell out of it.?
?I don?t know what that means,? I said, wanting to hear her say what I was hoping for.
?You know, I?d have to tease it all. It would end up one giant knot. Unless she?s willing to cut her hair she shouldn?t even consider it, because there?s no way she?d ever get the tangles out.?
?You?re exaggerating a bit aren?t you? Surely with time she could work the tangles out.?
?Not these tangles. That size of style calls for drastic measures.?
?You couldn?t go easy on it perhaps?? I suggested, liking what I was hearing.
?Not with hair that long. The only way to get that much height is to tease it all, and I mean every inch of it, really bad.?
Certain that Vivian was the right person, I shared with her an outright lie that Ellen was looking for an excuse to cut her hair as she was extremely frightened to do so. I talked of clinical depression and such over her inability to take the plunge, including doctor?s and psychologists recommendations that she part with her long hair. It was an Academy Award acting job on my part, and by the end of the conversation I had Vivian absolutely convinced and begging me to make the appointment so she could help. She promised she?d make no mention of the risks Ellen?s hair was being subjected to, even going as far as lying to insure the ?plot? gets carried through, and promised a back-combing job so thorough she would have absolutely no choice in the matter but to cut it. Like Joan she could also do my hair coloring job and cut at the same time.
I made an appointment for both of us the day of the party.
So now I had to figure out how to convince Ellen to have her hair done. That would be the hard part. And then I had to decide where to send her: Joan or Vivian?
Ellen was surprisingly open to making this a Halloween to remember, though I hadn?t run my elaborate idea past her yet (sans the hair part). We even both agreed to take a week to each come up with some suggestions, and would make the decision the next weekend, giving us over a month prior to the date to take care of the details. I wondered what she would come up with, and realized I needed to come up with some other ideas just so it wasn?t obvious all my eggs were in one basket.
I talked to some of the local costume shops to see what was available and at what price. I also talked to the local theatre groups, which would have some of the more elegant, and expensive, rentals. I talked to management about accepting a donation of two costumes under certain conditions, to which they were very receptive as I anticipated.
Then I had to come up with some other ideas which would make my main goal the obvious choice. Also, they needed to be ones I would be able to live with even if they were accepted, maybe even also fulfilling my goals of her doing something fun and different with her hair.
That weekend we talked of our ideas. Hers were predictable.
1) Night in armor and lady in waiting. (her hair, of course, would be down and wavy)
2) The couple from The Princess Bride (her hair, of course, would be down and wavy)
3) Rapunzel and her horse (her hair, of course, would be down and wavy)
4) Two hippies. (her hair, of course, would be down and wavy)
Mine, of course, were more elaborate:
1) Bride of Frankenstein and her mate (it would require a wig, but she?d at least have to put her hair up somehow first. Of course, it still meant me shaving my beard and mustache)
2) Scarlett and Rhett (I?d have to still shave the beard and dye my hair, but she?d need a wig or to have her hair done)
3) Bo Derek and Dudley Moore (I?d be very willing to go through the dye job and shave to see her in cornrows.)
4) The ?Somewhere in Time? idea.
We then started eliminating. I shot down the hippie theme first, saying it was rather boring and predictable, which it was. It would also be just too plain easy which is what most frightened me.
As I thought, she shot down the Bo Derek thing. No way would she ever get the cornrows.
I mentioned that the Princess Bride and Knight in armor stuff was very similar to our previous year. She agreed and helped shoot them both down. She also surprisingly shot down her Rapunzel theme, noting it would take two to make a good horse. I was getting excited knowing one of my ideas looked to be a winner.
She commented on my willingness to change my hair for each roll, giggling at the notion. I discovered this had fueled her desires to pick one of my choices. She couldn?t wait to see me clean shaven and brunette. Her only concern was the price of wigs, as she didn?t want to spend too much, and the availability of costumes.
As I knew, all the Frankenstein and Gone with the Wind costumes were long ago reserved, but amazingly there was a perfect set of ?Somewhere in Time? costumes that fit beautifully. (I was thankful I knew her size so well.) When she tried them on at the costume shop (They too were looking forward to their ?donation? after the holiday), and recalled all I?d have to change with my hair for the part, she agreed on the idea, and then set out to locate a wig with enthusiasm.
That enthusiasm was shortly dampened when she learned the price of such a wig. I knew it was far over-budget (though of course I?d spent hundreds to have the costumes made) and she came home disgruntled. The hand was playing out as I had hoped, but now came the difficult and tricky part.
I suggested, for just this one time, she have her hair done for the occasion. ?What could it hurt this one time?? I coolly stated, knowing if she went to Vivian it could hurt a lot. Then I added the guilt complex of what changes and sacrifices I was putting my own hair through. While at first adamant against it, the walls were slowly breaking down. As anticipated, she put the ball in my court, saying I?d have to find someone who could do it. She was confident I wouldn?t do it much less find someone who could do it and reserve a time on party day at such late notice. If all else failed, we would go as the two hippies.
Several days later I came to her with the information that I had found a stylist who could take both of us on party day. It was all well within our budget. She was floored and knew her back was to the wall. It just came down to taking a chance with her hair.
?I just don?t want to have my hair done.?
?Why not? It?s only one time.?
?They?d have to?.tease it. It would be destroyed.?
?That?s not what the stylists said. I made a point of asking. They said it would be tangled, but with some time and patience it would be fine, especially since it?s just one time.? (Joan had said that. With Vivian that was something else altogether, though she would lie if necessary.)
?Of course they?d say that. They just want to make a buck.?
Fearful that my plan was failing, I played my desperate trump card: feigned depression. It was actually very realistic. I didn?t want to be a hippie. It would be boring.
I was sure I had lost until later the next day, when I caught Ellen looking at herself hard in the mirror, holding her hair above her head in a loose bun. She was clearly deliberating the Gibson Girl style. I said nothing and had to go pretend I hadn?t seen what she was doing.
The next day I noted her haphazardly pin her hair up in a loose bun, and try on a flowing dress, studying her reflection in the mirror. I ?pretended? to walk in on her.
?Wow, you look great!? The sight of her revealed neck was definitely turning me on.
She looked at me quickly with a slight grin, still sizing herself up in the mirror. Then she took down her hair and studied it a bit.
?The stylist said it wouldn?t cause any damage??
I couldn?t believe my ears. She was actually considering it.
?That?s what I was told.?
?Then if it?s not too late I?m willing to do it.?
Inside I wanted to jump and holler, but I played it cool. ?I think you?ll look tremendous.?
?I hope so, though I?m really frightened about watching it get teased.?
?Maybe she can turn you away from the mirror so you won?t have to watch.?
?That?s a great idea actually. I think I?ll do that.?
If she was in Vivian?s hands, that would be a great idea. It would be too late before she knew what hit her.
?Actually I?m kind of looking forward to it, mostly to see what you?re going to look like.?
?Like Christopher Reeve of course.? Actually I was getting a bit nervous about what I would be putting myself through. But I also was getting a bit nervous about which stylist to call and cancel, and which one to confirm. With Joan I would get to see her in that style and not risk her beautiful mane. Everyone would be happy, although it would be right back to the same boring hair routine again. But maybe if she did it this once she would be more open to other risks.
She giggled a bit at my joke. She knew no haircut and shave would make my scrawny 5?6? body look like the tall, well built star. ?In that case I?ll do it this one time. Just don?t get any ideas that I?ll do something like this again with my hair in the future. It?s not going to happen.?
That was more than a bit disappointing to hear. If she were truly serious it made it much more alluring to send her to Vivian. Obviously Ellen, as well as me, would be miserable for a bit of time after that, but then I?d get my wish and see her in a different hairstyle. Of course I had no idea how short she would be forced to cut it to remove all the teasing. But even that notion I found a bit exciting.
I quickly called the costume company and ?reserved? the costumes. Little did Ellen know they still technically belonged to me in the first place and couldn?t be rented out by anyone else until after the holiday.
After a few days of pondering I called both stylists, confirming one appointment, and canceling the other. I also made sure I printed out as many pictures and angles as I could of Jane Seymour in the starring role and her big, voluminous Gibson Girl hairdo, plus photos of Christopher Reeve in the starring role for my own haircut. It looked shorter now than I remembered, and I was getting a bit nervous myself about all of this.
And so, just past lunchtime the two of us stepped into the small, aging shop, meeting the solitary stylist face to face, both prepared for our transformations. Mine, of course, would take some time to return to my normal look. For Ellen we would know later tonight or tomorrow when she tried taking down the style if she?d need time to recover or not.
I was first on the chair, getting a dye job. While it was working its way to become permanent color Ellen would have her hair set on jumbo hot rollers to induce some soft gentle waves instead of her numerous small waves from her nightly French braid. Then, as her hair cooled, I would get my cut and shave. Finally I would get to witness the transformation of her long hair to the classic period style.
Whatever nerves I had about what was going to transpire was quickly eliminated as the first of the dye touched my locks and I heard Ellen giggle. Her delight was infectious, and I was really looking forward to it all now.
About 15 minutes later I was seated under a hair dryer, a head full of tinfoil and goop, watching enchanted as Ellen had her hair expertly set in rollers. It was not only a first for me to see, but a first for her to experience. Just the very different sight of her all rolled up this way had me fully aroused. If she was nervous she didn?t show it, taking in the whole process with great interest and concentration.
Soon she was sitting as I was being clean-shaven. I had this beard and mustache since I graduated, even before meeting Ellen. It felt and looked most peculiar when they were gone. But in a way it was fun. Had I been a prisoner to my facial hair like Ellen to her long hair?
The foil came out and I looked so very different I hardly recognized myself. I didn?t have long to contemplate it though, as soon the scissors started in and hair was flying everywhere. It seemed like she was taking off too much, especially on the top and in the back where I was sure far too much had come off. But after some old fashioned hair tonic was applied, and a side part carefully carved out, I realized I now had exactly the same style. Still, it felt quite short, and I was amazed at how many of my locks now lie on the floor.
Ellen gave me a hug and kiss as we traded places, and I could tell she was clearly nervous about what was to come. I felt a bit guilty putting her through this, though that immediately dissipated as I watched the curlers come out, and was lost in the long, full waves with a curl at the very ends that looked so very different. I almost lost all control of my erection right there. Then the stylist brushed it out smooth. It was the closest to straight hair (except when it was wet) I had ever seen Ellen, and made me want to see it more often. I wondered what she thought of how she looked.
Obviously the feared back-combing time was now here. I crossed my fingers and tried to act like my heart wasn?t pounding so. As she saw the stylist pick-up the teasing comb Ellen nervously chimed in.
?Could you do me a favor and turn me away from the mirror? I don?t think I can bear watching this part.?
The stylist grinned an understanding smile. ?Certainly.?
The chair was turned to face me now, and lowered all the way down making the top of her head much more accessible. Then, almost nonchalantly, the front and center section, including part of her bangs, was separated and the teasing comb dug in.
(continued as version 1 or 2)
HAIR DILEMAS (con?t)- VERSION 1
Ellen bit her lip and her eyes peered up, trying to see what was happening. I was watching too, hopeful that Joan would be true to her word and that only ?minimal? teasing would be necessary, and that no damage would result. After all, it was a big enough breakthrough that Ellen was here in the first place, trusting my choice of salon and putting her hair through this risk. It would be difficult for me to sleep at night knowing I had caused her pain or suffering if her hair ended up truly damaged. One day she might cut it, but it truly needed to be her choice and not forced upon her.
All this build-up, and fears, and worries seemed almost anticlimactic when I saw how quickly the back-combing was accomplished. It took only seconds on the first section, involved only about the first 6 inches of length closest to the scalp, and ended up looking more windblown then a mass of tangles as I had thought. The section was quickly set aside and another done to match, and another, and another. The whole process was finished in no more than 10 minutes. Then she set the teasing comb down and put Ellen at ease, telling her the worst was over. Ellen was even surprised, pleasantly, that this was the brunt of torture.
It only took fifteen more minutes or so for her to affix the framework of the style on top of her head, and then arrange the hair over it and pin it all in place. A fairly heavy layer of spray topped it all off, which Ellen didn?t much like but conceded to as necessary, and she was done. Quite honestly she looked quite becoming and so totally different. We left both enamored with our partners new look and quite looking forward to the evening.
Once in full costume we were thrilled, and had as grand a time as any we could remember that evening. Numerous photos still adorn our walls and fuel our memories. That night I got to take her looking so very different, and even talked her into leaving it up through the night. In the morning I helped her take it down, and then made love again before she worked on restoring her hair.
Just as Joan had said and instructed the gentle back-combing came out without incident, and Ellen once more had her precious hair back, no worse for wear.
As I anticipated, the event didn?t change Ellen at all, and she continues to wear her hair the same each day, offering the same excuses about anything else, though still constantly asking my opinions.
One personal victory does come each Halloween though, as she entrusts me to pick the costume regardless and willingly subjects her hair to a new look (as long as it doesn?t involve cutting, of course). Last year was Scarlett O?Hara, only with her own hair curled into sausage curls instead of a wig. It was lots of fun.
I can?t wait to tell her about this year. She?ll never guess that all her hair can be transformed into a huge beehive!
HAIR DILEMMAS (con?t)- VERSION 2
Ellen bit her lip and her eyes peered up, trying to see what was happening. I was watching too, hopeful that I could keep a straight face as Vivian inflected the planned obvious harm upon her hair. She even grinned at me just a second and winked before diving in with her teasing comb, making it clear she planned to keep her end of the bargain. I was feeling a bit guilty about all this, and knew I was in for some tough times ahead when Ellen tried to get out the tangles, then conceded to cutting her hair. I wondered how short it would end up.
I also felt kind of good. Ellen never changed unless forced, and this was way overdue. I was looking forward to the period of acceptance that would eventually come, and maybe even the other positives that could come out of this. As long as she never learned this whole thing was pre-meditated I was OK, and thus far Vivian had done a great job of setting herself up to take all the blame.
The stylist somehow made sure she didn?t yank at the hair, thus Ellen wasn?t alarmed by what was happening. But it was obvious right away Vivian would be true to her word, and as it became more and more tangled I found remaining neutral in my expression more difficult than being dealt a Royal Flush at poker.
Only by checking my watch could I keep track of the time, as it seemed to take forever for Vivian to finish with all the ?ratting?. As it went on and on Ellen became clearly stressed, but somehow Vivian kept her mind off of it with her line of conversation. I?m just glad Ellen wasn?t looking in the mirror because her hair was looking absolutely awful. It was a huge mess, from top to bottom, far worse than I thought possible, and Vivian even went back and redid parts of it when both of us thought she was finally through. I knew it would be some time before I saw Ellen in hair so long again. Once more I wondered how short it would end up. I didn?t see how it could be anything but very short. I realized the agony she was going to go through was going to be far worse than originally anticipated. But what could I do now? It was done. Best to just keep a straight face and go with it.
Vivian set about transforming the knotted mess into the classic style, and in fairness did a wonderful job of it. After dispensing seemingly an entire can of spray on the ?do, the chair was turned and Ellen got to see her new reflection. It was very much a carbon copy of Jane Seymour?s, though probably several inches bigger in dimension.
As we left I tried to take some of Ellen?s thoughts off her hair by making a big deal about my transformation, which really was quite extreme when you think about it. But she was in no mood to talk, clearly worried about what she had just done to her hair.
?It seemed like she teased it a lot more than necessary,? she said. Did it look as awful as it felt.
I played dumb. ?I wouldn?t know. I?ve never seen it done before. It sure looks nice though.?
She touched it, taken aback by all the stiff spray. ?It feels terrible.?
?It doesn?t hurt, does it??
?No, it just feels gross from all the spray. It doesn?t even feel real.?
Not until later that night, when we were both in costume and heading out the door and it was clear we looked terrific did she start to cheer up. At the party we were an absolute smash, and the tales of our afternoon at the salon amazed everyone. Most people thought I was the crazy one, not understanding how severely Ellen?s hair had been abused.
By the end of the evening Ellen was floating. A few drinks had loosened her up and she was playing the part of Elise McKenna very well. When we got home we made love so intensely it exhausted us both completely, and we fell asleep in record time.
The next morning I awoke in an empty bed, realizing this was going to be a tough day on both of us. I didn?t hear or see Ellen anywhere. I still wasn?t used to my new clean shaven, dark haired look, though I was actually kind of liking it a bit. I had warned my students of my costume plans so I wouldn?t be too badly kidded when I went back to work on Monday. Still, it would be forthcoming.
What would Ellen?s friends and co-workers say of her showing up with short hair?
I went out into the living room and there she was. Her face was totally red and a pile of Kleenex was strewn around the floor. Her hair was down now, but a huge snarled mess just like it had been when Vivian had finished teasing it.
?Are you OK??
?NO I?M NOT OK!?
?What wrong? Is it taking a bit to detangle??
?It?s not coming out. I?ve been working on this for 3 hours now. I even tried washing it and letting tons of conditioner help the knots slide out. All I have to show for it is this.? She opened her hand to reveal a giant fistful of broken hairs.
I studied her hair closer now and could see that she had made some inroads, but in reality the bulk of it was knotted beyond belief. Ellen was so distressed she was past crying. It was total remorse.
I started crying now, and it was genuine. It hurt me so to see her this way
?May I try and help??
She threw the wide tooth comb down. ?Be my guest.?
For the next 6 hours we both worked on her hair diligently, at times making progress, but mostly failing. We ended up using knitting needles to independently detangle each hair. Even that didn?t work. By mid-afternoon she conceded.
?It?s no use. I?m going to have to cut it.?
Suddenly I didn?t want her to cut it, and tried to talk her out of it, saying I?d stay up for days on end if necessary. My words were genuine too, but too late. She walked into the bathroom and took out the scissors that she trimmed her bangs with. She also used them when I trimmed the ends for her on occasion. She handed them to me.
?I need you to do this. I can?t bear to do it myself.?
?Me?! Shouldn?t we let a pro do it or something.?
?NO! A ?pro? got us into this mess in the first place. I can?t see trusting one to keep as much length as possible.?
She turned her back to me, entrusting me totally. I had been dreaming of this for so long and was now totally frozen. How much should I cut?
?I don?t know how much to cut.?
?Whatever you think you need to.?
This was what I wanted. What I had dreamed of. I had free license. I could chop it to her shoulders if I wanted. Only now I didn?t want. In fact I didn?t want to make any decision whatsoever. Then an idea hit me. I handed her back the scissors.
?Why don?t you make the first cut. That will let me know how much to take off. Then I?ll finish it for you.?
She reluctantly took the scissors in hand, then pulled the mass of tangled mane in front of her, surveying it closely. It didn?t even extend as far as her waist now from all the tangles.
Much to my amazement she put the scissors about 6 inches up from the end (I had expected her to just cut off an inch or two) and sliced in almost sans emotion. A bit fell to the floor, but most was still tangled in with the rest. She then handed me the scissors and threw her mane behind her back again. A few more of the clipped hairs fell lose, plunging to the floor. I surveyed the damage, my jaw hanging to the floor at what was now being asked of me. For me to cut it all at a similar length, her hair would seemingly reach no more than just past mid-back. I figured she?d actually be losing about a foot of hair, or a good third of her length. I had envisioned this for so very long but now was totally nervous about it.
I had trimmed her hair countless times, but this was so different as I couldn?t comb through it first. It wasn?t wet now like usual. Instead it was matted with tangles and felt awful. It was all one big mass, so lifting some of it moved the rest. I was actually crying as I started cutting it. Very little fell until I was through the entire length. It then fell with an audible ?plop? on the floor.
She looked down at the pile on the floor and somehow found more tears to start crying. She looked at herself in her mirror, nearly in shock by how much shorter it now looked. The rest was still a tangled mass. There was no guarantee that more cutting wouldn?t follow.
She took off her robe and hit the shower again. Hoping more conditioner and detangler might help her cause.
(Continued as version 3 or 4)
HAIR DILEMMAS (con?t)- VERSION 3
After a good 30 minutes in the shower she returned. She hadn?t washed out the detangler or conditioner, and the two of us again started in on her now shorter length. It made a huge difference as now many of the knots started relinquishing their hold. Once some started, it became a domino effect. Although it took a good several hours, eventually her entire length was tangle free once again. Unfortunately the first makeshift trim was now extremely uneven, and I had to trim it again to even it all up. When I was through her hair was still longer than I had anticipated after her initial cut, although it no longer reached to her waist, stopping a good 2-3 inches above it. All told about 8 inches of length had been lost.
The bright side was her hair was now extremely full on the ends (not a bit of thinning the entire length) and much healthier as a result of this extreme trim. Truth be told she probably needed something like this for the health of her hair but never was willing to do it.
Ellen masked her cut by wearing it in a French braid nearly all the time, with the end doubled over so it looped around appearing even shorter, although you couldn?t honestly know she had cut it.
When the braids came out the resulting waves were so much fuller now (from not nearly as much weight) her hair fell only to midback, but with a bit of lift now on top and was really very becoming. It definitely excited me that way and in a few weeks Ellen was almost thankful for the trim. Much to both of our delight her hair grew back quite quickly, and even grew several inches longer than her previous longest length.
She never did risk it again to a stylist, and went right back to her old predictable hair behavior. But knowing how I felt when it came time to cut it, I?m quite content with it the way it is now, and find no desire to see her any other way.
HAIR DILEMMAS (con?t)- VERSION 4
After a good 30 minutes in the shower she returned. She hadn?t washed out the detangler or conditioner, and the two of us again started in on her now shorter length. While some of the larger tangles came out initially, the next two hours made little to no headway. By now Ellen was numb, disbelieving what had become of her once crowing glory.
She picked up the scissors.
?You?re not going to cut more are you?!? I truly didn?t want this to happen.
?I don?t see how I have any choice.?
I talked her out of it for another 30 minutes, but soon time was up and we were no further along.
She snipped off another 4 inch length, and then gave me the scissors to finish the job. Soon another large clump of hair joined the first in the trash can.
Once more we dove into length trying to remove the tangles. It was now getting dark outside. The entire day had been spent on this ordeal, and I wondered if either of us would sleep tonight. Her hair was still a mess.
An hour later another 4 inches fell to the floor. I felt as awful as I?d ever felt about anything.
(Continued as version 5 or 6 or 7 or 8)
HAIR DILEMMAS (con?t)- VERSION 5
That four inches seemed to do the trick, and the remaining knots finally gave way. Soon she was running her comb through the entire length once more, albeit much shorter. The ends were very uneven from the makeshift cuts, and I needed to trim it all once again. Rather than cutting it in a straight line across the bottom, I was told to arch the cut fairly significantly. It seems the front hair had been initially cut far shorter than the back, and rather than taking a good 5 inches off the back to make it all one length with a straight across cut, rounding it could leave a bit more of the length in back.
The finished cut left Ellen with hair that reached only to midback, and the front hair reached only 4 inches below her shoulders. Ellen couldn?t believe that about half of her once lengthy tresses now were in the kitchen trash can.
There was no hiding this cut at work, though she wore it to work in nothing but a now much shorter French Braid for months. When the braids came out her hair was transformed into an absolutely huge mass of waves that actually looked far shorter. The front hairs only fell to her shoulders, and the back just a tad bit longer. I adored it this way and friends loved it too, but Ellen wasn?t so sold on it. It looked too short, and so she even tried wearing it straight so it could reach as far as possible down her back. For the first time I got to see my wife in straight hair and loved it. Amazingly she did too, and she even started wearing it like that on a daily basis. She even learned to curl the very ends under with her curling iron, which was a look I immediately adored, as did she.
Ellen wanted it long again though and, although the occasional trims gradually evened it all to one length, she once more had her hair all one length down below her bottom, just as it had been. It took nearly 3 years to accomplish, but she did it.
But there was a difference now. She mostly wears it straight, sometimes curled, and at other times wavy. The variety keeps me very happy, and any frustrations I?ve had about Ellen and her hair are far behind me now.
HAIR DILEMMAS (con?t)- VERSION 6
That four inches seemed to do the trick, and the remaining knots finally gave way. Soon she was running her comb through the entire length once more, albeit much shorter. The ends were very uneven from the makeshift cuts, and I needed to trim it all once again. Rather than cutting it in a straight line across the bottom, I was told to arch the cut fairly significantly. It seems the front hair had been initially cut far shorter than the back, and rather than taking a good 5 inches off the back to make it all one length with a straight across cut, rounding it could leave a bit more of the length in back.
The finished cut left Ellen with hair that reached only to midback, and the front hair reached only 4 inches below her shoulders. Ellen couldn?t believe that about half of her once lengthy tresses now were in the kitchen trash can.
That evening she braided her hair as usual, still reeling from how little she had left. She left it in for work the next day, with huge amounts of time spent explaining to friends and co-workers what had happened.
When she took out her braid for me later that evening, she was greeted by nearly an afro of wavy hair. With so little length to weight it down, the waves now went up and out. She absolutely hated it, and I had to admit it was pretty scary looking, and thus she was forced into wearing her hair straight. For the first time I got to see my wife in straight hair and loved it. Amazingly she did too, and the days of her French braid seemed behind her. She no longer wore it pulled back, but long and straight.
In the months that followed she started noting style trends of longer haired models, and one day I returned home to find that she had it cut that day. The front hairs now fell only to her chin, with it all angling down sharply to mid back length at it?s longest. Some very long layers had been cut making the finished look very sleek and wonderful. Her bangs had not been trimmed, and it seemed she was now growing them out. Ellen had come full circle from her bland hair days and now was as stylish as any woman I knew. I adored the change as did she.
Over the next year her bangs grew out into the style, which she kept with trims every 6 weeks or so. She was slowly convinced to go even shorter with it, with the front still just reaching her cheeks, but the back only about 4 inches below her shoulders, and a good deal more layers introduced. Her stylist showed her how many more looks this offered, including many different ways to curl it. This made such a difference, and could make her hair look far shorter than it actually was, and certainly much different. It took some time, but Ellen became adept very at using hot rollers and styling products. Now some days she was straight, some days beautiful curls, some days fun crimping, and I thought I had died and gone to heaven when she started learning a variety of updos including my favorite, a full French Twist.
Over the years Ellen never did grow her hair to its old length again, although at times she said she wanted to. But we both loved all the variety her new length offered. Now I?m totally happy with her hair. Heck, she even looks great when she puts it in a French Braid.
HAIR DILEMMAS (con?t)- VERSION 7
That four inches helped matters greatly, and the majority of the tangles now relinquished their fight. An hour later her still damp hair was able to be combed from top to bottom, although it now only reached to her bra-strap at the longest. I had to trim it again for her, as the initial trims had been uneven. More length fell as the front hairs on the left side were clearly shorter than the rest. A straight across blunt cut left her with hair only about 4 inches below her shoulders.
Exhausted and distraught, she decided to call it a day and to call in sick to work the next day to adjust to her hair dilemma. She went to bed a restless, tearful, depressed sleep. I decided to call in sick also, hoping I could help in someway even if just moral support, and knowing I would be useless at worse knowing what my wife was going through.
The next morning I was awaken by her tears of sorrow. Initially I thought it was just her dismay over what had already happened. Instead I discovered the adventure had not yet ended. Overnight her hair had dried, and now she could see all the damage. There were still numerous broken hairs standing up all over. It didn?t take a rocket scientist to see that it still needed to be cut further. We both agreed it was time to go to a salon and have it done right.
We went to a salon her friends swear to, and by midmorning she was in a chair talking over her options. Reluctantly she agreed to a shoulder length bob that included cutting a bit more bangs to really make it sharp. By the time the stylist had finished with her blow dryer and a light dusting of spray, I already was in love with the new look. I believe Ellen was too. Her demeanor steadily improved the rest of the day, and she was constantly touching and feeling her new style. It looked so much healthier, so much thicker, and had so much movement.
It didn?t take her long to learn to exactly duplicate the style each morning. In time she ever learned to do other things with it, including putting it up, curls, etc? She even was willing to tease it every now and again, although nothing like the way Vivian had teased it. Still, she could duplicate a version of that Gibson Girl hairdo now almost any time she wanted to. Now we both know why this is the choice cut of pros. Because it truly is so easy and offers such variety.
Ellen has kept that look since, going back every two months to have it trimmed to perfection. She now looks back on the whole Halloween event with thanks, knowing she never would have done this change to her hair had she not been forced to. Even her parents approve, and that is fine by her.
HAIR DILEMMAS (con?t)- VERSION 8
That four inches made little difference. Exhausted and distraught, she decided to call it a day and to call in sick to work the next day to deal with her hair dilemma. She went to bed a restless, tearful, depressed sleep. I decided to call in sick also, hoping I could help in someway even if just moral support, and knowing I would be useless at worse knowing what my wife was going through.
The next morning she worked at it some more with no success. Vivian had been absolutely true to her word that she?d be forced to cut her hair, but I hadn?t anticipated this at all. The very roots were still in horrible shape.
Shortly before noon we ended up trimming off more length, in hopes it would do the trick. Her hair only reached her shoulders now at the longest. She?d be lucky if she could end up with even a shoulder length ?Bob?.
That cut finally did the trick as the remaining tangles worked themselves free. But by the time it was nearly dry it was obvious her hair had been extremely damaged nearly to the scalp. There was still numerous broken hairs standing up all over. It didn?t take a rocket scientist to see that it still needed to be cut further. We both agreed it was time to go to a salon and have it done right.
We went to a salon her friends swear to, and by mid-afternoon she was in a chair talking over her options. She was shown numerous styling books of short styles. I was shocked to learn she would end up with hair about the same length as mine, as only about 3-4 inches of length could be saved. Even that was damaged, but salvageable.
Ellen ended up with a Pixie cut like Winona Ryder made famous, covering most of her ears but still above her collar and only a few inches in length on top. She looked so totally different I hardly recognized her. Ellen hated it, from of combination of the shock of the radical style and the fact she just plain didn?t look that good in it. Heck, she didn?t really like Winona that much in the style. In some ways I liked it but was already missing her long hair and knew it would be quite a while for it to be long again.
What I didn?t know was the unexpected thrill Ellen got out of the feel of the electric clippers cleaning up her neck and sideburns. It planted a seed in her that constantly grew and grew over the coming months.
Ellen started growing out the Pixie and started learning about the ?Ugly Phases? of growing out hair, something she never had experienced since childhood. Her hair was now starting to look much like her childhood ?Punishment Cut? as she referred to it, and she wasn?t happy about it in any way. She wanted something different than this, and wondered how she would find the patience to grow it out.
At the same time very short hair came into vogue for men, and the rebirth of the Barbershop happened. Ellen noted constantly each time she saw a freshly clipped head of hair, and even took notice to the location of every Barbershop in town. Her seed was growing larger still, and now she was feeling an urge to visit a Barbershop and do something totally out of character. What difference could it make after what she had already been through. She only had a few inches to loose anyway.
Later that month a special attachment came out in the newspaper proclaiming ?The Best of?? basically everything in town. Thumbing through it she came across ?Best Barbershop?, and found herself reading the text carefully. This established shop constantly got high marks, took walk-ins only, and was priced at only $6. Their ?Friday Clipper Special? was supposedly so famous people from other towns made the drive for it.
?What was the Friday Clipper Special?? is all she could think about. It was so engrained on her mind, and she so hated her reflection each morning (trying a variety of gels, mousses, curling irons, etc? just didn?t make any difference) that she found herself driving by the shop each Friday after work, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening inside. ?For Men, Women and Children? read a sign on the door.
By the time her length had grown into a dead ringer of her childhood cut, she could stand it no more. Her bangs were poking in her eyes, her ears were completely covered, and the back was just creeping over her collar towards her shoulders. Plus her natural wave caused it to stick out or poof in all directions, making it look anything but stylish. It would take many months before it got through this ?ugly stage.? That was many months she wasn?t willing to tolerate. She walked into the Barbershop the next Friday, taking a seat and watched the action in the two chair shop. She was not the only woman in the place. One was just finishing having her mid back length hair trimmed ever so slightly. Ellen was relieved a bit that they were clearly used to women in the place, and that it wasn?t just a sign. Still, this was definitely unlike any salon she had seen. No hair washing went on here, no curling, perms, etc? although there was an old fashioned blow dryer on the shelf. The primary method for cutting here was clippers and a comb. And the vast amounts of clippings on the floor suggested that a great deal of hair fell daily. Ellen looked around the stark walls for some idea of what a ?Clipper Special? was. There was no indication anywhere. There wasn?t even a price list on the walls. Just a television in the corner, small mirrors opposite the large mirrors over the counter for clients to watch in, and a few pictures of sports teams etc? giving their thanks to the shop for support. Copies of the ?Best of? section from the paper where also pinned haphazardly on a bulletin board by the front door.
She waited for nearly 30 minutes before it was her turn, watching a few old men getting their side parted hair trimmed, an old bald man getting his small rim of hair cleaned up, and one child getting a ?bowl cut?. She wondered if any of these styles were the ?Clipper Special?. She doubted it, though prepared herself for the possibility of ending up with side parted hair slicked down like the three men she had seen with the cut. She was even a bit excited about this look, and found herself touching her hair imagining the feel of the side part. In any case she figured she was going to end up with hair above her ears, and fairly short in the back. What would that feel like? It would be different she conceded.
As she found herself stepping up to the chair her heart was pounding and she was more than anxious. She couldn?t wait to feel the clippers against her skin again. The barber affixed the robe tight around her neck, and then gently combed through her sloppy mop of hair a bit, getting a feel for it.
?What?ll it be Miss?? he asked so casually. Despite not knowing what she was asking for, she was ready for the experience.
?The ?Friday Clipper Special?? she said coolly.
The barber seemed taken aback a bit. ?The standard version??
Ellen found herself nodding yes while wondering what she had just done.
?OK,? said the barber, and he went back to grab his clippers. Since Ellen?s hair was so short already, he assumed she knew what she was doing. Had it been longer he definitely would have questioned her a bit more, making sure she truly wanted the cut.
Ellen jumped a bit as the clippers came to life, but then grabbed the arms of the big chair and held on for a ride she was hoping would be fun. If anything it was already living up to her expectations as her heart was pounding nearly out of control.
The barber walked behind her, casually put the clipper at the base of her neck just behind her left ear, and pushed it up into the hair. It was tight against her skin and she heard a huge mass of her locks greeted by the hungry blades. Ellen opened her eyes, unprepared for the speed of it all, and the realization that she was about to have hair shorter than any time in her life including when she was born.
The barber worked quickly, taking off seemingly the entire back and going up ever so high: clear to the crown! Ellen tried to watch in the mirror but couldn?t see anything that had been done thus far. The sound of hair falling was lessened now, but the rhythmic feel of the clippers constantly going up and down the back of her head was intoxicating. She never expected to enjoy this so much. It felt even better than when I gently and lovingly brushed her formerly long hair.
The barber stepped to her left side and quickly ran the clipper over her temple, tight to her head just like the back. Now she got to watch as the entire side of her head was laid bare, her ear obviously completely uncovered. Smooth white scalp with only a hint of short stubble was all that remained. Ellen was wide-eyed and speechless, almost in denial that this truly was her image staring back at her. She was wondering if she was making a mistake. If only the feel of the clipper against her skin didn?t feel so good. The right side was quickly done to match the left. Her head looked so long and narrow now, as the top hair, only about 4 inches long in the first place, looked so very out of place now and looked much longer than it had only a few minutes ago. She wondered how much more would go. Would the top end up matching the sides? Would she walk out of here bald? That would certainly explain the barber?s look of surprise when she asked for this cut.
The barber turned the chair 90 degrees to the right. Now all she could see was the neighboring customer just stepping to the chair, and past that the television set. She couldn?t see the mirror anywhere.
?I think I?ll have me the ?Clipper Special? today Paul?, said the customer as he stepped into the chair. Ellen was happy that she?d get to see someone else get whatever was happening to her hair. It wasn?t the same as looking in the mirror, but at least it beat watching the sports talk show on the television. The man had hair several inches longer than she (It seemed so weird to say that, as she was so used to having the longest head of hair anywhere for so many years).
?It?s about time you get one,? quipped the barber.
Ellen was snapped back to reality as she felt her own hair being spritzed with water and combed straight back. Her bangs were pulled back with the rest, and she no longer felt any hair on her forehead, nor felt the annoying poking against her lashes. The water droplets that hit the freshly shorn sides and back felt very peculiar. The barber left her side to return to his counter as she watched the clipper dig in to the hair of her neighbor. She couldn?t believe how much she was enjoying watching this, though it was shocking how truly short his hair (and her hair) had been left. It was hardly a fraction of an inch.
Her barber was back again, this time with a brush and blow dryer attacking the top hair. Maybe it was going to be left this long. How odd! She wondered how it was being styled. It seemed to be every which way, with a bit of tugging like he was trying to get it all perfectly straight. She didn?t figure that was possible with her hair, especially since it was so short now it had no weight to help pull it straight.
The ?styling? period quickly ended, and then he was back at her side with clippers and comb working on the top hair. She couldn?t really feel what was happening now. All she could do is hear what was happening. What she heard was a fair amount of hair coming off. Obviously she wasn?t leaving with the top hair disproportionably long. But the care he was taking told her it wasn?t just being buzzed off to the scalp like the sides. She wished she could see. The man next to her was still having the back and sides removed. His barber seemed to be taking his time, chatting away. Also, he took a bit of time-out to brush away the large amount of clippings on the floor by his feet. He had obviously had a very busy morning.
Ellen was getting a bit nervous now as she felt the comb pressed directly against her head and the clipper running over it. How short was he going? The barber seemed to be taking forever. He was even attacking the sides a bit more. If he was shaving her bald he was certainly taking his time.
Her neighbor was just having his sides shorn when she was asked if she wanted the ?full? version of the special. Figuring she had nothing left to loose she nodded. Then she watched amazed at how short and high up the sides of her neighbor were being buzzed. She was wanting to reach out and touch it, and to reach out and touch her own hair (or what was left of it). It would obviously be a long time before she could French Braid her hair again.
Her barber returned to the back and sides, running the clipper even tighter against the skin over and over again. She heard a great deal of hair being removed but honestly didn?t know where it could possibly be coming from. She didn?t think she had enough left for it to be making all that noise. She didn?t know what she was looking like and almost feared having it revealed, but she knew this was truly satisfying her quest of an encounter with the clippers. The feel and sound of the machine were thrilling to her, as was coming in here for something so radically different and unknown. She felt entirely liberated and free, not worrying about any consequences or what others might think.
She watched her neighbor getting his top hairs spritzed and blown dry. It looked like the barber was trying to make them stand straight up, and doing a pretty fair job of it. It actually looked pretty ridiculous. She never though 4-5 inches of hair could look so long and in need of cutting. In the meantime she heard less and less hair falling from her own head. Her barber had given up on the back and sides (was there anything left?), and now was working on the top even more, this time without the aid of a comb. Towards the back of her crown she felt the clipper touch down directly against her scalp, almost like it was coming in for a landing. She swallowed nervously, once more wondering if she would be leaving bald.
Her neighbor was finally having the top hair sliced off, and it didn?t take long for Ellen to see what a ?Clipper Special? was. It was a flattop! It was one of the shortest of haircuts men wore. She had never seen a woman with one, unless it was a joke. Women certainly didn?t look attractive in one. Suddenly she was trembling in fear, in disbelief of what she had just done. Had she known she was asking for a flattop, she never would have walked in here. Her neighbor?s hair was getting shorter and shorter. It was hardly an inch long now, and the barber showed no signs of letting up. How long was hers? Maybe, since she was a woman, her barber had left her with longer hair than normal. But she had agreed to the ?full? version! Did ?full? mean longer or shorter? Based on what she felt she doubted it was longer. Despite her fear she noted that her hair didn?t feel like it was in a flattop, nor that it was that short. She was ever so anxious to see it and feel it.
Her barber?s instruments went silent. ?OK Miss, there you go. A Clipper Special. I?ve got to say I can?t recall the last time I did even a long version on a lady, and never did like the look except on an man of course, but you pull it off real well.?
With that her chair was slowly turned towards the rear wall and mirror, and Ellen saw her new reflection. It was, as she now expected: a Flattop. She was horrified. She was so used to her hair being the first thing people noticed about her, and now it was the lack of hair in this most peculiar and stark style. It was so very?flat! The top hairs, perhaps only ? inch long at best, were stick straight and level as the finest table. The sides were totally devoid of hair. Ellen didn?t know something could be shaved so smooth without a razor, but this barber had done it. The pale scalp gleamed under the lighting of the shop. She was handed a small mirror and allowed to see the back. It too was just smooth skin from top to bottom. She tilted the mirror to see the top, noting it got ever shorter towards the back. Stunned, she noticed the back third was nothing but a smooth strip of skin, almost like a huge bald spot.
She just looked speechless as the robe was removed from her and she was free to stand up. But then quite unexpectedly, she saw herself in her clothes instead of a robe. She was wearing a subtle dress suit with some bright jewelry. The entire look was strangely?.not too bad! Did she actually like how she looked? She cautiously touched her hair and, after the initial sensation wore off, found herself captivated by it, especially by the level top surface and totally new texture of her hair.
As she drove home she found herself constantly looking at herself and touching her bare scalp and the level top surface. She was still shaking by what had just happened. She knew it was going to be very tough to explain to anyone why she had this done, but she also knew that the adventure of the clippers running over her head, plus not knowing what style she was getting were quite a thrill. Still, she now sported a flattop! Not so long ago she could sit on her hair.
Obviously I was stunned by her new look, as she had never said anything about this to me. However she retold the barber shop story again and again. For some reason I absolutely loved her in this look and the feel of it drove me crazy. But I didn?t really share this with her as she was very uncertain about it.
It took several weeks for her to get used to it, and not be amazed every time she saw her reflection. After a month it had grown out enough that it no longer stood up in a flattop, though it was still too short to look like much more than a buzzcut. Even though she said she wanted to grow it out, most days she still gelled, blow dried, and hairsprayed it into a flattop. By now the sides and back were a good ? inch long and it looked very different than the day it was first done. I found myself complimenting her each time she wore it this way, almost like I was hoping she would keep a flattop and not grow it out. Is that what I wanted?
After two months it was so long even all the effort and product couldn?t make it look like a flattop any longer. She was well on her way to growing it out. It was at this point she realized she didn?t want to. She missed her short hair, missed the sensation of the clippers running over her head, and missed how it felt to the touch. She found herself back in the Barbershop the next Friday, getting another ?Clipper Special?. For the fun of it, she requested the barber take his time, and that the chair not face a mirror during the cut. She found herself really enjoying the adrenalin rush of seeing the final look unveiled. She found the experience equally thrilling the second time since all the fear and dread was gone. Every two weeks she goes back again to have it touched up, and has even requested it shorter. Now she comes home sporting a ?Horseshoe? flattop, where only a thin and incredibly short rim of hair defining the flattop remains, and everything else is shaved smooth. It sounds awful but for some reason she looks great. I found myself so enthralled with the look and feel of her freshly shorn head and hair that I eventually took the plunge myself. I can understand the thrill she gets from the whole ordeal as it was fun for me too. So now we both wear ?Horseshoes?, and both love them.
Ellen?s folks don?t approve. They want Ellen to grow her hair long again. In fact, they want it just as long as it used to be. I don?t think that?s going to happen.