BLOG: Pixie pros and cons

I don’t own a brush — I have hands for that. I don’t own a blow dryer — I have the wind/air drying for that. I don’t own a straightener; my hair has no extreme curl to it. And I don’t own gel or any other sort of hair product, mainly because I wouldn’t know what to do with it.

The only time and money I spend on my hair is buying Matrix shampoo and conditioner, washing it and getting it cut. Simply put, I am not a low-maintenance hair person; I am a no-maintenance hair person.

This why I love the pixie cut so much. Who wouldn’t love making a 24 fl oz. bottle of 2-in1 shampoo/conditioner last from first semester freshman year, well into first semester sophomore year? I did. (And yes, I did wash my hair daily, for those of you jumping to conclusions. Do the math; less hair, equals less shampoo.)

Prior to my first pixie cut in summer 2010, I had long pin-straight locks that I kept throughout high school for one reason: sports. (Check out my luscious locks in my USD ID, taken at my FastTrack registration from spring 2010.) It was nice being able to pull all my hair away from my face into a ponytail. Other than that, I was a regular “Cousin Itt.” You know, that Addams Family character that was head-to-toe hair, a pair of shades and a derby hat. Aside from special occasions, I did nothing to my hair but wear it down or in a ponytail.

That’s when I had the thought, “I don’t do anything with my hair, so why not cut it all off?”  So I did. With a pixie, I’ve never had to worry about the, “What should I do with my hair today” question. But it’s not that I worried that much about it before.

However, I’m not here to just gush about how awesome the pixie is. There are cons to the pixie cut, namely the purpose behind this blog — growing the damn thing out. I have successfully done it once before, but this time around it will be just as painful and awkward.

My biggest problem with the pixie cut is waking up in the morning to find a stupid looking, Robert Pattinson-esque, each-piece-of-hair-is-carefully-tousled-in-a-messy-yet-stylish-hair-‘do, on top of my head. First off, I am not Pattinson. Second, it looks ridiculous and my roommates love to point it out.

My hair’s lack of restraint forces me to give up a couple minutes of sacred sleep each morning in order to tame it. When I had long hair I would shower at night so I could sleep in longer. This isn’t an option anymore.

My next biggest beef with the pixie is cold weather. With a pixie your face and neck are exposed to the elements, and in South Dakota, the elements (straight-line winds and sub-zero temperatures) will easily damper the fact that you can make a 24 fl oz. bottle of shampoo last a year, or any other positives of the pixie for that matter. Welcome to the tundra. Buy some scarves and hats.

Until next time,

Emma — that girl whose hair is beginning to look eerily like a certain teen-heartthrob-pop-superstar. Hint: He’s a vision in purple.