For my third month in the City of Angels, I did a Britney Spears last night. No, I did not overdose. No, I not wear a bra and bikini and performed on-stage as an obese bitch. I simply did this...
Choz! Not really.
I just did a do-it-yourself makeover, the sort that America's Next Top Model would do at the start of every season.
After having avoided the hair-cutter for more than a year, I finally decided that it's time for a trim. My hair has been annoyingly long and unruly recently, I've found my self obsessing about it over many other trivial things in my oh so frivolous life. The past days, I've resorted to tying it in a bun or ponytail rather than bothering to SHAPE it.
So last night, I decided to tame my hair a bit by pulling clumps from my head and snipping the really unruly sections. I do not have any background with cutting hair, however, it was not the first time I did it either. I know how my tresses behave (those wayward curls and all), so by approximation I snipped an inch or two here and there, attempting to sculpt sections so my mane would have more body and texture while getting rid of the extra length.
It's not a radical change. I was about to post a before-and-after shot but I was surprised at what little difference came from my experiment with being a Ricky Reyes. But ok, here's how I look now, more or less (shet, Sarah this is for you mi amor).