a personal history by haircut

at first:
i had a huge head as a baby. like, clinically huge. looking back at the home movies, it's amazing that i'm not toppling over in every frame.
my mother took me to supercuts, or its early 90s equivalent. this is funny because my family was very thrifty. haircuts at supercuts seem out of line with the general theme of my childhood: make due with what you have.
but there i was, up on the padded seat, getting something just one width-ratio away from a bowl cut

then:
it became middle school. i became aware suddenly. my friends were not enough, my clothes were not enough, my hair was not enough.
i put gel into it, spiking it up in the front. i wore a silver chain and carried a skateboard everywhere. i listened to korn. my hair crunched and shined and showed everyone i was a badass.

a few years later:
things slowed somewhat. the hair started to peek out from under my hat. flipping they called it. my hair started to flip. and then it grew longer and longer. i discovered the beatles. it grew longer. i started wearing purple jeans and macrame belts. my hair grew even longer. i looked like jesus if jesus had had conditioner.

fuck, alright fine:
i even had dreadlocks for a short time

post hs graduation:
the self-mowed buzzcut. the bent arms in the mirror. number one, all around, everywhere
i rocked this for years and years. 2007 through 2015. fast, easy, and without maintenance
when this haircut is fresh you look like a rascist
when you're a serious runner, this haircut makes you look like a refugee

now:
i have the same haircut as every other guy. a pretty boy haircut. gay men give me serious attention now. the things they say to me. i'm a pretty boy.

i'm certain that just a few years ago, my old self would have kicked my ass.
but here we are.

atm1