Out with a Bang

I didn’t realize bangs were such a big deal. Yesterday I noticed bangs being equated with hipsters on Eat for Victory and that baffled me. I also didn’t realize that Asian=hipster, not that I completely disagree (way back in high school, my boyfriend naively asked, “why are Asians always alternative?” when alternative meant indie or hip. It was a funny question but true in the ‘80s suburbs).

Today, the New York Times weighs in on bangs. Who knew that cutting your hair was a life decision right up there with marriage and procreating? I shouldn’t be surprised since one of my biggest pet peeves, next to emotional vomiting, are girls (sorry, not women) who cry on TV when they get their hair cut during a make over. Or better yet, say that their husband won’t like it. It grows back, duh. Hair is not a limb.

I’ve always had bangs and can’t stand not having them (in fact I chopped them all childishly Monday night because they were starting to grow out flippy and irritating). I had been growing my hair out and it had just passed my shoulders, then lost my mind and had it cut all chin length in May. People seem to like it but my initial thought was that it was too cutesy for my age, though you woudn't catch me crying over it. I'm actually tempted to get it cut shorter and rougher. 

You also have to be careful with bangs or you’ll appear too retro/costumey. Sometimes bangs can look sophisticated, though frequently they look mental patient-esque (see entry below). Just last night I was wondering when the line between still cute and old and crazy should be drawn because my mom sent me these birthday collages (it’s a Rosie O'Donnell-esque hobby she’s taken up in middle age) of Imogene Coca with bad/funny job advice, and I was like oh, no, is that what I look like?

Aging does strange things to a person. Today, I forgot to wear deodorant and I didn’t realize until I was on the subway platform (not that I smelled, that’s just when it occurred to me). For all I know the deodorant, itself, is the source of my forgetfulness. What with the tenuous aluminum/Alzheimer’s connection and all. Not only am I going to start resembling Imogene Coca, but I’ll stink too.