
Readers of this blog will remember back in the beginning of March, I had quite the bit of hair-related angst going on, as evidenced by this Monday Beauty Poll. Based on the overwhelming positive votes given to a fairly drastic hair change, on March 4 I entered my salon and entrusted my new hairstyle to my longtime stylist.
I had no idea what she was going to do, I just told her to chop a bunch of hair off and that I knew she would do me right. My hair had been long, all one length, and I told her she could layer it, which was a big deal for me. My only requirement was that I needed enough length to put it up in a ponytail.
When she did the dramatic chair turnaround a la What Not to Wear, I really didn’t know if I liked it or not. It was choppy, much shorter, and it was a look I had never seen on myself. It also didn’t help that she styled it to look a bit like Jennifer Aniston’s hair on Friends, which I disliked. I walked out of the salon slightly traumatized, reminding myself that it was, after all, only hair. I reassured myself that it would grow back in no time.
But then the next day I washed it out, styled it myself, and eventually I discovered that I loved my new haircut. Like really REALLY loved it. It made me look younger, it had tons of movement, and my husband even liked it just as much as my old style.
Then, on March 23, along came goddamn Brooklyn Decker.
“BROOKLYN DECKER CUTS HAIR!” screamed all of the headlines. I’m not a big peruser of Sports Illustrated, so I didn’t really know who she was, but I looked at the photo of her and gasped.
She had MY HAIR.
Oh sure, the back of hers is a bit shorter, but from the front, our hair looks exactly the same. The color is pretty close too, except hers is a bit lighter.
Except I did it first!
But nobody except my friends and family know that. The people at the grocery store don’t know. Nor the people at the bank, or the restaurant.
So of course, now everybody thinks that I, the 40 year old mother of two, copied the young bikini model’s haircut in order to breathe some vitality into my decrepit lifestyle.
Curse you, Brooklyn Decker! It wasn’t enough that you were born genetically blessed, are married to a multimillionaire sports figure, and are now pursuing a serious acting career.
Oh no, you had to go and snatch this poor suburban housewife’s moment away from her in your perfectly manicured hands. People now look at me and think, oh, how cute she looks with Brooklyn Decker’s haircut.
Thanks a lot.
Bitch.