A History of Horrid Haircuts

Modern Mullet?

After months of quarantine and despite a decision to grow my hair longer, I finally ventured out to a hairdresser.  In my head I constructed a complicated algorithm of risk versus reward and was fed up with looking scary in the mirror, especially in the morning when I look like a Who from Whoville.  I wanted layers to tame my hedge thick hair but didn’t want all the length off.  I searched Google and discovered a Modern Mullet, a little less frumpy than a Shag (which is quickie sex in the UK but a hairstyle in the US).  Somehow I thought that, with some fairy magic, I could be transformed into mirror images of Scarlett Johanssonn or Miley Cyrus, both of whom experimented with a Modern Mullet.  I didn’t take into account that my hair is the wrong texture and I am 60 years old.  Maybe they regretted it too?

Pyramid hair in Giza 2003!

Halfway through, I could see this was going to be a disaster and remembered a similar sinking feeling in Cairo when I went to the local hairdresser in 2003.  Her special skill was making my frizzy hair look like a pyramid.  The title of this blog tells you everything about my hair.  This time in our 2020 crazy world, I drove straight home, dropped my clothes in the washer before running naked into the shower, futilely trying to wash away any virus, dodgy haircut and lack of good judgment .  My hair looked a little better with the product washed out but it still looked like a bad 70’s mullet – all business at the front; party at the back.  Teddy’s face was a picture…  I managed not to cry because it’s just a bloody haircut and of no importance in a ‘these difficult times’.  Later, I howled with laughter about my predicament and regaled Teddy with the tales of bad haircuts – some of which he was there for.

The Scottish Pyramid style 1990s??

The first bad haircut that I recall was in the mid 70’s when my friend and I decided on a whim (bad idea) to go to the local hairdresser for a cheap trim.  My hair was already short and layered but I came out looking like someone from an internment camp with lice.  My friend’s bangs/fringe was cut at a sharp diagonal, almost as though she had stolen a protractor from our school bags.  Oh, how we laughed…  It was even more hysterical because misery loves company.  Think of how much worse it would have been if one haircut was good??  At a later date, I colored the hair of the long suffering friend.  It was supposed to be Blonde but it was really Ginger.  You would think I have learned a lesson but I did the same to an American friend a few years ago.  I bet you don’t have friends who are that trusting???

The second really bad cut was in our local town in Aberdeenshire (always go to the big city salon).  Astonishingly, she was trained at the same place as the Egyptian hairdresser and this time I had a slightly shorter but just as wide pyramid with fringe/bangs.  The third disaster, a few years later, was a good cut, at least.  My hairdresser had some new product that enabled her to blow dry my hair into glorious straight locks – I was so delighted!  It was smirring (light rain) in Aberdeen and as we walked out into the night my hair transformed.  Ringlets appeared one by one until my head was covered in a riot of curls – more than usual.  Teddy was with me and was fascinated by the alchemy of my hair.  We laughed then, too…

My hair has always been a family problem.  Nana and my mum battled with my hair for years.  I even had a special treatment called ‘Toddle locks’ that helped tease out the knots.  They weren’t used to my alien, thick, coarse Hispanic hair.  When I was 13 years old my mum admitted defeat said “Brush it yourself!”  I did brush it but ignored the matting birds nest underneath.  Finally she discovered it and marched me off to the nearest hairdresser.  They spent hours painfully combing out the mat and had to cut some of it out.  I was so ashamed that I think that is the first time I have told that story.  She let me cut it short after that…

To be honest, I thought I was beyond bad haircuts at my venerable age but apparently you are never too old to look like an ass.  I am going to wear my Mullet like a hair shirt and contemplate my vanity.  Thank goodness for baseball caps…

PS – In case you are wondering, there is no perm involved – that is my natural hair texture.  More of an entity, really.

45 thoughts on “A History of Horrid Haircuts

  1. Well I’m the friend. It WAS the worst haircut I ever had. We were scalped. And once it grew back you’d think we would know better but we used Sun In. This was meant to give us attractive Farrah Fawcett style blonde streaks but did indeed turn me ginger. Every week I used a different dye to try to get it back to something reasonable. It took a few weeks till I ended up a dark brunette, which looks pretty good, to cover it all up. I have never had a colour job unless done by a professional hairdresser since.

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  2. Oh..i remember getting a perm when I was 17,,, I had hair past my shoulders when I went in but the curl was so tight that it came up near my ears.. I looked like someone had shoved a mushroom on my head..It took about 3 months to soften enough to be bearable.. and at 17, that’s a long time.. In saying that, I kept having perms until well into my 30s.. I was just a lot more careful in what I wanted lol

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  3. You crack me up Kerry. I had one incident back when I was 18 and punk rock was the rage. Well my punk rock hairdresser gave me a cut. I got a mowhawk. It flopped the next day and there wasn’t a industry that would provided enough hairspray to make that stand up again. lol I went back to the hairdresser and I sported the ball look which was not in style at that time. Live and learn. Haircut do evolve sort of. Have a wonderful weekend.<3

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  4. I love looking through your old photos & hearing about your hair stories! It makes you feel better knowing you’re not the only one who’s gone for the chop & had that sinking feeling of ‘oh no, I shouldn’t have done this!’. I’ve never dyed anyone else’s hair but I’ve had my own go from red to 50 shades of ginger. I’ve also not had super thick hair for the past few years; gone are the days of thick, frizzy hair that I used to moan about as it’s now rather thin & lacklustre. I guess it’s the same for many of us wishing we had hair different to what we do. It’s so sad to read how you felt when you were 13 though. Nobody should feel ashamed for their hair like that. For the record, I think your hair is wild & awesome, however you decide to get it styled! xx

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  5. Haha, brilliant 🙂 You are not alone Kerry. My childhood and teenage years were spent desperately trying to control and Brylcreem my curly hair until I accidentally discovered back-combing. Problem solved. I blame my parents.

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  6. I think you look lovely! My hair and I had a terrible relationship with my mother. Real girls had curls she said. At night my straight fine hair was twisted into rags, uncomfortable to sleep on. Then she discovered the ‘Home Perm’ and so I became a frizzball until we escaped at age 18. Thankfully we have been on a straight and narrow path ever since!

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