Oh Hey, Bangs

As long as I can remember, I've had the same hairstyle. I grew out my bangs in second grade (my mother still talks about what a disaster this was) and never looked back. My hair cut cycle has since repeated itself endlessly: (1) grow out my hair until it's ridiculously long & I can't stand it anymore and (2) cut it all off & donate it to cancer patients. Over and over. That's really all there is to it - no genuine styling or layers or whatever else people who brush their hair like to do. Mine is just really long or really short. Actually, my hair has probably spent the majority of its life in the awkward-in-between stage, but that's beside the point.

About this time last year, I decided to mix up the routine a bit and get bangs. One of the perks of being a graphic designer is that I can use all sorts of photo editing software to see what I would look like with a hairstyle before actually going through with it, and I decided bangs would be okay. That's probably cheating, but I'm fine with it. Anyway, I spent about a month working up the courage to get bangs. I'm a creative artist, meaning 99% of my life is done entirely on impulse. It's taken time, but I've learned that cutting hair should fall under the remaining 1% category. At the very least, cutting my own hair should fall under that 1%.

So, I finally worked up the courage to get bangs... and then Zach proposed.

And then all plans for bangs had to be postponed, clearly. I mean, what if bangs ended up being an absolute disaster that would haunt me in hundreds of engagement and wedding photos for the rest of my life?

Exactly. Good move, Beth.

All plans for bangs were forgotten until recently, when I woke up one day and decided that it was now or never. Less than 24 hours after this incredibly impulsive notion swept over me, I was walking out of good ol' Sam and Bill's with bangs.

In honor of the fact that my hair was brushed and my bangs were styled by a professional (I had no idea if I'd actually be able to do that myself moving forward), I got all sorts of crazy and put on make-up and a cute outfit and took some pictures to document that one time I totally had my life together.

Tada! I've had them for a week now, and I've determined that I got insanely lucky with hair that kind of just goes where it's supposed to go without much effort on my part. Which is great, because I'm not about to start putting effort into my hair. I mean, I don't even have one of those round hair brushes yet; I just fluff them for a minute or so in the morning with my hair dryer and they're good to go.

No regrets so far... which is really saying something! A lot of people have told me that I look a little older, one lady told me that I look like a little girl, and a few people have said that I look like my mom, who had the exact same hair when she was 23. I think overall, everyone seems to really like them. What do you think? Should I keep them around for a while?