The trouble with trimming

There are certain advantages to going trim free: Not actually having to worry about trimming.

Hah.

For most people this wouldn’t even be something they would think about, but some things actually do become more difficult when you have super long hair.

I don’t trust stylists. At all.

Sure, I haven’t actually experienced any incidents where a stylist chops off a bunch of your hair, but I have seen how they absolutely couldn’t show the true 2 cm even if you handed them a ruler and put a gun to their heads.

(I do however find that having my hubby sitting behind me glaring holes through the stylist’s skull makes them a whole lot more accurate.)

I thought I could get my hubby to trim my hair for me. A lot of the super longhairs seems to eventually talk their significant others into trimming their hair.

But after years of trying and lots of praising him for his work, he reacts to any hint of me wanting a trim by breaking out in cold sweat.

Honestly I prefer his nervous reaction over any stylist ever:

“Ow crap what if I take off too much?!” vs “Sweet! A blank canvas for my sick skills!!”

Not a difficult choice.

But as I wrote already: After years of trying, he is still incredibly scared of messing a trim up and will try to get out of it.

I teased him with it and asked him “Do you know how many people would pay to get to trim my hair?” and without even looking up from his book he replied “And exactly how much would it creep you out if the guy trimming your hair was breathing funnily and rubbing his boner on you?”

…

Good point.

Excellent point.

He then lifted his eyes from his book and said “Why don’t you get one of your girlfriends to do it?”.

Well, I have honestly never really talked much hair in that way with my girlfriends.

In fact I generally try to stay off the topic of hair around my friends. A lot of people are just being politely curious about hair around me and I know how irritating it is when someone confuses polite curiosity with “Please lecture me about this”. Besides, I know I come off as a giant smartass and know-it-all since, well, I do know it all when it comes to hair.

Some time passed and I happened to get into a discussion (Well, more that we agreed that stylists are irritating) about haircuts with a classmate. She has the most fantastic curls and at her last haircut, the stylist had straightened her hair which aged her about 30 years. Seriously. I saw the picture.

I told her how much it annoys me when they make a big fat fuss about cutting a straight line 2 cm higher up than the longest ends and she offered me to help.

Score!

Then we got to talk about how that would work best. As she pointed out: Even when I’m standing up, she would have to crawl around on the floor.

The school has a creepy dungeon-like basement wherein there lies a 50s fallout shelter-style shower room, complete with benches bolted to the floor.

She suggested I stand up on one of those and then she can sit behind me comfortably.

It was an excellent idea.

So, now I just need to remember to bring a scissor to school about once every two months or so…