“There was a little misunderstanding. I said, ‘Oh I just want a little bit off’ … and it went from here to here. … I just burst into tears and started crying, and I felt so vulnerable. For a woman to all of a sudden have no hair, oh my god. I felt really bad, she felt really bad, she started crying, I started crying, a couple of other people started crying.”
Wait. “For a woman to all of a sudden have no hair.” What’s that? No, really—what is that, and why is she including me in it? Wait, you mean she’s not? She’s only talking about herself and her own personal experience in being self-conscious about something that doesn’t really matter at all? Oh. OK. Because I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why she’d say “for a woman to all of a sudden have no hair, oh my god,” because I am a woman, and I, too, have had “bad” haircuts. I’ve had long, wavy hair down to my ass and I’ve had hair that was literally a half-inch long. I’ve pretty much run the gamut of hair lengths, and nothing about its length, condition, or color ever made me feel like less of a woman.
So, what, Cameron? Short hair isn’t as feminine as long blonde locks? There’s a length that women just shouldn’t go, because it’s not fitting? I’m not really sure I’m understanding what you’re saying, and I’m not all that comfortable completely chalking my cloudy fugue today solely to the half-bottle of NyQuil that I’ve ingested over the last twelve hours, nor am I being blinded by the massive pile of tissues that are dotted across my desk, threatening to close in on my notebook, looking like poisonous jelly fish floating around in barrel. No, it’s not just the massive head cold that’s got me a little foggy, it’s your unspoken reasoning behind the “stigma” of short hair on women.
Can you do a sister a solid and clear that up for me? Huh, girl?