Song: Let Me Bang by DJ Deeon (Warning: This song is probably offensive to most people.)
Here is something from my old blog, written in 2007:
There are two types of women in the world.
I’m not saying that women aren’t incredibly complex, nuanced creatures, or that any particular woman fits into any neat and tidy category. Except this one.
There are women who need bangs, and women who don’t.
For whatever reason, I’ve long thought of myself as a woman who doesn’t need bangs. This dates back to my early twenties, when my haircut of choice was a bob, longer in front and shorter in back, no bangs. I’m not sure why I came to this conclusion, seeing as how I have, to put it kindly, an oval-shaped face (or not so kindly, a looooong face). Also, referring to my forehead as a fivehead is probably an understatement. It might qualify as a six-and-a-half head, but I still labored under the delusion that I am a woman who does not need bangs.
I have nothing against bangs, but I really, really hate having hair in or on my face. It’s really annoying, especially when working out, and I am not the headband-the-bangs-off-your-face type, even at the gym (I hate having anything around my head even more than I hate having anything on my face). I also have this fantasy that my quasi-wavy air-dried hair could look sort of beach-sexy disheveled when it gets a bit longer, and the thought of having good hair with almost no effort is very appealing. However, I hate wavy or curly hair with bangs.
Right now, I’m kind of in bang limbo. I’ve had bangs for a while now (I’m not sure what possessed me, but the second I got them I realized what an idiot I’d been to go without them for so long — apparently it takes me a while to learn). I’ve been growing them out, though, and now they’re sideswept bangs that are almost nonbangs, almost long enough to push behind my ear but not quite. This is the worst possible length for bangs to be — they’re always in my face and it drives me crazy. In just a few months, they should be long enough to stay out of the way. I’d be liberated from the bangs.
But then yesterday, cruel, cruel reality slapped me upside the fivehead. We were on our way home from the Nuggets game, and I was feeling bad about never taking any pictures. We also were stuck on Market Street in the most ridiculous traffic I have ever seen (a million people were out for St. Pat’s day, decked out in ill-fitting green t-shirts and sparkly Mardi-Gras-looking necklaces, being drunk and really, really annoying), so to entertain myself, I started taking pictures. The first problem with this is that Ben gets the goofiest look on his face every time he’s having his picture taken. The second problem is that in every shot, I looked like a Russian mail-order bride who had been held captive in someone’s basement for a year before escaping. If you think Tyra Banks has a fivehead, well, yeah, so do I. That thing took up the whole picture, dwarfing the rest of my face, and made me look like some kind of malnourished skeletor (I’m glad I didn’t look fat, but still, this is not appealing).
So the reality hit me right then. I am a woman who needs bangs. I will never again deny this ultimate truth. This Saturday, I will once again have bangs, real bangs, not bangs I just shove off to the side and wish they weren’t there. A while ago, I wrote about discovering my style icon, Jane Birkin. She will be my bang inspiration — I’m going all-out — thick, straight, not sideswept bangs.
I hope you all can learn from my mistakes. If your first response to this post was to think, “Ha, I don’t need bangs!” — are you sure? Really sure? I didn’t think I needed bangs — I thought they were nice, but I looked just as good without them. Not true. I bet most women look better with bangs than without, especially with hair up, because hair up, no bangs is not a look for everyone. Yes, bangs can be annoying — but I suppose I’d rather be annoyed by bangs than live the rest of my life looking like a “before” picture.
Okay, back to present day here. I went back through my photo archives and found the post-Nuggets, mail-order-bride photos from 2007. Here’s one of them. I know it’s not a good photo and this might be the least of my worries, but it’s the kind of picture you’d see on the internet and think, shit, that woman needs some bangs. It’s even worse in the crappy Hipstamatic picture I posted the other day, which is what got me thinking about this stupid issue again in the first place.
These are the kind of pictures you look at and say, oh, how sad for her that that’s going on with her hair, the poor thing. Here, have a hug and some scissors.
The problem is, as mentioned above, I hate having hair on my face. I hate it so much I’d rather look like, well, like I look. I know. It’s bad. And I like thick, blunt, Jane Birkin bangs. But I learned only recently that very thick, blunt bangs can make a long face look even longer. They also make me skew a little — I don’t know — Broncos fan who drinks a lot of terrible beer at bars like the Stumble/Float/Roll/Drift Inn (the kind of place you pass in the middle of nowhere while you’re going somewhere else and say hey, let’s just hang out at the Stumble/Float/Roll/Drift Inn instead of going to whatever super-awesome place you’re going, but you never actually hang out there, ever).
The other problem is that I sometimes have unfortunate bangs. I mean, seriously, what the shit is this? And I swear, this is not me taking an unwarranted opportunity to post a picture of me with Joe Sakic, because seriously, nobody in her right mind would want to post a picture of herself looking like this, Joe Sakic or not. Then there was the time I decided to trim my bangs after having too much to drink and while watching Kansas get eliminated from the NCAA Tournament the year I picked them to win the whole thing. This was during the mysterious dark-brown-hair years, and the result was less Bettie Page, more unfortunate baby-banged moonface girl who’s not even cool enough for roller derby no matter how much she might try.
Part of the problem, too, is that I think in general, bangs look better with dark hair than with blond hair (unfortunate non-roller-derby me excepted). But there are some blond women who look awesome with bangs. Reese Witherspoon, for example. Or Sarah Burke. I think I do okay with not-too-long, thickish, sideswept bangs, even in dorky pictures where Ben and I both look like we just smoked a big fatty outside my cousin’s wedding.
The other problem (Good lord, how many problems could there be regarding something as inconsequential as what I do with my stupid hair?) is that I’m not always sure about the intersection of bangs and glasses, and I wear glasses 99.99% of the time these days (because I like them and because glasses are the lazy woman’s eye makeup). And then there’s the fact that you have to, like, style bangs.
So I don’t know, internet. I hate having bangs and there’s a good chance they could go horribly wrong, but I kind of think I need them. If you’ve managed to read this whole thing, which is probably the most shallow, ridiculous thing I’ve ever spewed on the internet, I want your opinion and I will absolutely do what you tell me.