Dawg recently got a haircut, courtesy of hubby. It’s a bad one. I also just got a haircut, not courtesy of hubby I hasten to add, and it’s also a bad one. But whereas I pull my hair back off my face with sunglasses, or tie it up till it grows again Dawg couldn’t give a sh*t about how bad his haircut is. Be more like Dawg. Embrace the bad haircuts, even if they make you look like Gizmo the Gremlin. (Dawg, not me)
Have you ever heard of a “Can I speak to the manager?” haircut?
Nah, me neither. But apparently I now have one according to my teenage son. I googled it and it’s an actual thing. Not a particulary GOOD thing to have mind you…
Last week in a brain-freeze moment (NOT a mid-life crisis as son calls it) I got my hairdresser to chop all my hair off. Now in today’s world that’s a pretty shallow thing to blog about. But then again I haven’t been this short since I used to get mistaken for a boy all the time!
Anyway now with my ‘Speak-to-the-manager’ haircut and ‘resting-bitch-face’ (yep, daughter added that one in the mix too) I think I might as well go order my cardigan and knitting patterns.