BLOG: Severing ponytail ties

Pirates, 18^th century colonial men, and male Beatniks of the 50s and 60s (basically writers in general) — what do they (stereotypically) have in common?

“Trendy” baby ponytails, like the one that is currently sprouting from the back of my head.  It’s official; I have entered the ‘mullet danger zone.’

This revelation of sorts dawned on me one day, not too long ago, when I decided to wear a turtleneck (an awesome pixie-wearer, neck-warming alternative to scarves). I put on said turtleneck and realized my hair was touching and hanging over the collar. Further, now, whenever I wear a typical shirt, with a crew neckline, I can feel the wisps of party in the back “dancing” in the wind.

At this point the business in the front screams stage 2 — “The Bieber Bob.”  I have some seriously Bieber-esque, bangin’ bangs. Meanwhile, the party in the back is running rampant into a lush, Billy Ray Cyrus-certified, achy heart-breaking tail that cascades over my turtlenecks — part of stage 3: “The Beatles Circa 1960s-Mop-Top-Shag-Do.”

This is far from unexpected. I am 12 weeks into the grow-out process, at least it shows growth progress, but more than anything it screams “Help! I need somebody! Help! Not just anybody” — a hairdresser. Unfortunately, I won’t be going home for another couple weeks. Luckily, I have a pair of cheap scissors, and a friend with a steady hand and knowledge of what a straight line looks like, who will be trimming the party off the back of my head.

Next week I will document the difference a little trim can do for this situation.