Today we have another guest post, this one by the mythical Laura Jean Cunningham. You can find her all over the internet at @ljandthemachine.
On the night before my first day of college I spontaneously cut seven inches off my hair and, though I didn’t know it then, that was the beginning of a year and a half of hangst (hair angst). Since then my hair has been through a variety of stages, each more hangsty than the last.
My first drastic change was BANGS. I’d been watching New Girl a lot, and I was really identifying with Nick Miller’s angsty pout at the world. Since it wasn’t (miller)time for a pixie cut, I thought I would go the Jess route and give myself some fringe because that’s as close as I could get. (Fun fact: this was around the time that I gave myself a prison tatt but I’m not allowed to talk about that because it’s actually super dangerous BUT ISN’T THAT THE POINT, MOM?!)
Next was BLONDE BABY BLONDE. My friend Ellia, who was my trail guide into the wilderness that is ANGST, held my hand as a brain cell-killing amount of bleach was applied and my hair lost its never-been-dyed virginity. It was painful, literally and emotionally, but beauty is pain and so is everything else in this world.
However, I’m a generally happy person (that’s actually the first line of my resume), so my hair needed to take a more quirky tone and so the next step was clearly LAVENDER.
I saw this picture above and it was so tumblr and I needed it and so my roommate and I stayed up until 2 am making the magic happen. I learned that having purple hair was a great way for total strangers to see you across the room and automatically know that you were BA and totally unapproachable and don’t you dare look at me for more than two seconds.
Finally, like every good angsty girl, I ended where a demographic analysis of Hot Topic would tell me to begin, BLACK. Black like my nails, black like my heart, black like the flag we’re all waving.