Cutting hair
Up until my 20s, I would go to somewhere like a Supercuts to get my hair cut. But other than the off-chance of a nice looking gal touching my head and hovering around me, I hated doing it. It cost money, it was awkward, and they would always ask me what level clipper or what style, and I had no idea. I wanted to be like, “You tell me! Aren’t you the expert?” I had no fucking clue what my hair should look like or how it should be administered to.
So when someone finally taught me how to cut my own hair (thanks, Tim!), it was liberating. All I had to do was buy a pair of clippers for $20 and that was it. I just picked how short (¼ or 1/3 were the ones I usually used) and then went to it.
I was living in a tiny little cabin in Lake Tahoe at the time, which had a little crawl space for sleeping up a ladder in the apex of the roof. There was a hatch up there, from which I could pee out of during the night, as well as buzz my head and let all the hair fall straight out. It was great.
And that’s what I did for the next 15 years or so – until last year.
I took great pride in doing this, considering all the money I was saving. I only upgraded to a new pair of clippers once, and I think that pair was pretty cheap, too, probably something like $35.
To be honest, I just thought of it as vain to care that much about how you look, to spend time styling your hair, washing it, maintaining it. And I just didn’t want to deal with all that bullshit.
But in the last couple of years, I realized that I had to up my game in terms of my professional appearance. Sure, as a teacher I wore ties and dress shirts, and the occasional suit, but it wasn’t an everyday formality. The tie was the most formal part of my everyday attire. But now that I am a representative of the district, and visit many different schools and interact with a lot of strangers, I’ve become slightly more mindful that I need to look presentable.
So I finally grew out my hair a little. I didn’t know what to do with my hair yet, but my wife pulled up a picture of George Clooney with his hair slicked over to the side, and I said, Ok, let’s just try that. Because where else do you start?
I pulled up the picture and went to a random barbershop downtown and showed it to them, and they cut my hair. I got a little bit of gel, and what do you know? I could deal with it. It looked OK.
People at my work keep complimenting me and saying how much they like my hair, so I guess it’s good. But I still feel like it’s vanity to care that much about it beyond the necessity of maintaining a professional demeanor.
I hate having to pay money to go to a barber, and I hate having to comb and gel it and fuss at it and think about it.
But for now, I’m going to stick with this new system until I stop caring again. Then I’ll go back to cutting my own hair again and saving money.