My Relationship With Bangs
Bangs, dubbed as the “most traumatic” hair experience for women. Who knows, bangs are hard to pull off. Do you look good? Do you really? If you do, it still sucks because eventually you will want to grow those out. If you don’t look good girls, do you really think you’ll enjoy growing them out? Do you want to look like Blaire Waldorf in an ugly headband for 4 months? No. To get away from the headbands are you willing to be eye raped for those months while these angry razors take their sweet time growing out? I personally hate being eye raped. This has been my downfall every time I try to grow out these bangs. My solution for this summer, slick backs and d0-rags. You’re right, I am white. It’s terrifying.
My problem is, I like to piss myself off. Yup, so true. Every couple years I go through this hideous mind-boggling process of saying, “ya know what would be cool? BANGS!” Sometimes it is not even a process. Completely unexpected. One time I was getting ready to go to a party in college and I started playing Edward Scissorhands (if only I meant the drinking game…). Instead I decided to take a wack at my long blonde locks for some serious BANGAGE. My “special person” thought process: bangs will look SO good tonight! Not: bangs will look good tonight, AND FOR THREE YEARS STRAIGHT.
Listen, I kind of like bangs. Until I don’t. I do not know if I pull them off, and I do not care. This is now what I would call my own personal mental retardation. I just have this unexplainable desire to go through HELL every couple years.
I am going to blame my Mom for this special condition.