A little over a week ago, I had a haircut. After being smooth and sleek for a few years, I wanted a change. So I went for layers and a slightly more shaggy look.When I got home, my dear husband approved. "Hey, you haven't worn your hair like that for a long, long time." Now, he usually likes it when I'm shorn, but he seemed somewhat more enthusiastic than usual.
I began to think back, and realized the style was similar to the one I'd had when I was seventeen. That was my age in those long ago days when we met. I'd had my long hair chopped off in London and the cut was known as a 'chrysanthemum'. Hmm.
And then I remembered a conversation with an old friend. Her opinion was that the way we wear our hair when we first meet someone -- and presumably like them -- will always be the favoured style. Maybe there's something in that idea, and maybe we take a kind of mental snapshot at that first moment, and this stays with us. Not that I'm likely to stick to this style. A change of topknot usually feels good to me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment