Bad Haircut I want to tell you about one time when I went to get my haircut by my father and it turned out to be awful. Unsuccessful and bad haircut is not just one day of wearing a bad hairstyle. It spoils the mood and lowers self-esteem for months until your hair grows enough to change the situation. I looked like a lesbian Jonas brother, school pictures were the next day, and I learned to be more responsible and not to do things last minute and the actions have consequences. To begin, I was always moving my bangs out of my face and it getting really annoying. With it just being my dad and I, there was no other option to ask my dad to trim my bangs. " Hey dad can you trim my bangs, but just a trim," I said. My dad replied, " Yes let me go grab a stool and a …show more content…
Finally, it was morning and I couldn’t get myself out of bed to save my life because I didn’t want to feel the agonizing pain of looking at myself in the mirror and seeing how bad my hair looked. I sprayed hairspray and brushed my hair to make myself look somewhat presentable, and off to the bus I went. The bus arrived at school and I was so scared to walk in because I was so afraid what people were going to say about my haircut. Sitting with my regular group they all asked me about my haircut, surprisingly it was all good things. To conclude, though the experience was borderline traumatic for my high school reputation and I managed to come out of it. After several weeks the horrendous situation on my head managed to grow it out into a hairstyle someone willingly have and I was able to attend social events again. I looked like a lesbian Jonas brother, school pictures were the next day, and I learned to be more responsible and not to do things last minute and the actions have Andrew Fleece Mrs. Hayes 3rd Andrew Fleece Mrs. Hayes 3rd consequences. I learned a lot from this haircut, one of them is to never trust my dad cut my
It was my senior year of high school, I was sixteen, getting ready to turn seventeen. It was my senior year of high school. I was not your typical girl wearing makeup everyday and worrying about getting dolled up for school. I did not play sports. Don’t get me wrong, I would get all dolled up if I had something special to do like go to a school dance. I had a part time job at Olive garden because my parents motto was “if you do not play a sport you need to work!” My mom used to say to me “you know Alana back in my time I was not able to work so you are very lucky you're able to work.
In the documentary “Good Hair”, Chris Rock covers a lot about different hair types and what women would do to their hair just to feel beautiful. He first decided to do this questionnaire because one day his daughter asked “how come I don’t have good hair?” Chris was very curious as to how she came up with that question so he sat out to find out. He went in salons, barber shops, and beauty supply stores to find out all the information he needed to know.
I pretty much felt like an outcast when I began high school. Most of my classmates still had their friends from middle school, whereas mine went to the neighboring high school. Having social anxiety really didn’t help me either. It was hard for me to make eye contact with others or even bother to introduce myself to new people. In the first few weeks of high school, something had caught my eye. There were flyers advertising auditions for ‘The Little Mermaid’ production. Taking the risk, I decided to audition. Through the auditorium doors there was a grey table with upperclassmen talking to other students. Located on the table were different character scripts and a clipboard for signing in. One of the strangers approached
The big day was finally here! I woke up around four in the morning to get my hair and makeup done. I had stayed in Fort Worth at my aunt’s house, since the lady doing my hair lived closed to her. So already it starts to go bad. The lady called in saying she couldn’t make it because her car broke down, so of course I start freaking out. I needed my hair and makeup done a.s.a.p. so I could be on my way home to Jacksboro. My aunt started to call some people she knew and I waited impatiently starting to do my own make up. Finally, after what seemed like forever another lady
Something as seemingly simple as hair can be much more complex when we take the time to think about another person’s perspective, history, values, culture, and feelings. The interaction in Seminole, Texas wasn’t just about a haircut.
“It’s my hair.” Says a growing and distinctly baritone chorus from all over the U.S.” and I can do what I want with it.” Thus in this age of revolt, springs one more rebellion-this one against the close-trimmed male haircut.
is an unescapeable part of your life. Where your hair can not always be neat
When my father had come home from the hospital, he told us all that our
My parents would try a variety amount of styles, from twist to little pigtail buns, anything so my younger sister and I we could look presentable. After my parents struggled with our hair for years, they decided they would allow us to get our hair professionally relaxed. The first time I stepped into a hair salon, I was about 8 years old. I remember sitting in the salon chair just wondering what is going to happen. This was a new experience, something exciting.
I googled images of short hairstyles until I found the perfect one , it was blonde with spikes and different designs. My heart almost stopped when I saw the hairstyle, but then I couldn't find anyone to style it for me and graduation was only a couple of days away. I found the perfect hairstylist and she worked miracles. My hair was a pretty blonde color with streaks and big curls. I was ready for graduation the next day.
I can't remember the day my hair and I parted ways. We used to get along when we were young! Displayed in the ponytail fountain on top of my head, she was quite cooperative....
I had always been comfortable in myself, it never really bothered me how I looked, nor did it seem to bother others, the people who I called friends. As I walked through the door somehow it was as if, overnight I was expected to wear clothes that I felt awkward in (but still looked cute), shoes that hurt my feet, and makeup that clogged my already full pores. I was met with grins and giggles from others. I caught tidbits of what they were saying.
I started wearing what I wanted and not just what was popular. I didn’t have close connections with my friends at the time either. Most of them gossiped all the time, and that’s just not me. I had been stuck in my shell for way too long in fears of being an outcast. The first day of trying to come out of my shell I was made fun of, but I didn’t care near as much as I thought I would. These people are making jokes about me but don’t have any clue who I am, what I’ve been through, or what my future holds. So why even give them the time of day? I kept on wearing what I wanted and actually made life-long friends who were into the same things as I was. It does not matter what you wear or how you look honestly. The only thing that should matter is what’s inside of you, and you shouldn’t be discouraged to express that in fears of someone not liking you. “Those who matter don’t mind, those that mind don’t matter” (Theodore Suess Geisel.)
me. Some people used me for money or to buy alcohol, but I did get out from those
I bought a unicorn suit pajama and a random witch’s hat, that I didn’t wear. Then my friend and I went to the check out and we waltzed on over to the bathroom so I could change into my new outfit. As soon as I walked out of the bathroom I got weird looks. People were rather distracted by the way I was dressed. I had a cashier that I knew from high school, she’s in my grade, say something like, “Did you just change into that?” I said,