Why I Wanted Bangs
Walking out of the grocery store, out of my peripheral vision I spotted her. Cute in a mud colored shorts and white silky tie shirt, not sure what she had on her feet, but it was the hair that stopped me dead cold. She had on bangs.
She looked just like me twenty years ago. Soft fringed bangs, wispy strands caressing the side of her face, the back tied up in a pony tail and walking with her hand laced through the arm of some guy.
I wanted those bangs. Michelle-Obama-bangs even if the trend has been over for almost a year.
I know…but I wanted to relive how I felt twenty years ago when I was the carefree one, brand new staff at a huge bank, which was a miracle in itself. Learning new things everyday and finally able to pay for my hair extensions with my money and not my dad’s or a ‘gift’ from a boyfriend after a freaky weekend.
“Now, I can’t be carefree no matter how hard I try, not with the responsibility and the blessing of a family. I can only find some measure of escape within the experiences I create and in my mind.” AD
So I walked into the WOW store on Vanowen Avenue, with my Amex card ready to do some real damage. The panoramic view of rows of hair – extensions, tracks, wigs, braids etc. made you go, “Wow!” An perfectly coiffed head does not a woman make – but we somehow we missed that lesson.
We spend at least $500 on hair extensions – some-else’s hair or much less on some synthetic, itchy mop. Who cares if it’s fake? I applaud my sisters who have evolved more than the rest of us – with cropped hair, dreadlocks or just plain natural hair. (That’s if you have kinky hair)
“Some of us work so hard over the years to get somewhere and then our hair decides it’s not coming with us!” (A joke I heard tonight from a balding man)
Well, I paid for my panacea, called a dear friend and we watched YouTube videos for directions on fixing my bangs. Under that fringe, I was peeking from a slow side-splitting chrysalis and I felt high every time I caught a glimpse of my profile, the muted burgundy color-4 gleaming in the light. I was going through a midlife crisis and this was my drug of choice.
I was morphing into the real me, that’s what growing older does to you. I was trying new things, taking more chances, a new business, getting serious about my writing and as Brenè Brown would say, “Daring Greatly.”
I wanted my bangs – call it my helmet of salvaged youth. I wanted to be reminded about the wonder of new beginnings, that it was okay to experience false starts or stumbles on the way to finding our authentic selves and relieve hope’s innocence. Anything really, to get me through this phase of life!
Next month I will be a year older and not sure I’m ready for the miracle of a new season. Before that, I wanted my past to meet my future and say, “Hello friend, it’s so good to see you again…but as usual, you are pretty late to your party.”
I’ll be fine.