A Haircut

Shakespeare once wrote: Frailty, thy name is woman.

Wrong!

Shakespeare was a man. How much could he possibly know about a woman? (or How much do you expect him to know about a woman? or It takes a man his lifetime to know about a woman)

I say: Woman, thy name is Change.

Women look forward to changes, especially in their looks. They change the color of their nails; their make-ups and their hairstyles. Hair can be cut short or made longer, it can be dyed into many colors, like blond, mocca borwn, granny grey, or even cherry pink.It can be straightened to make it smooth, or permed.to make it wavy or curly.

No woman can resist the temptation to change her hairstyle form time to time. You may regret it if you can’t find time to visit visit your hairdresser. But if you do find time, chances are that you may regret more. Salon is a magic place. The hairdresser is like a magician doing the trick of “rabbit out of a hat”. However, even the most professional magician may miss once in a hundred times.

Unfortunately, I was that “miss” a month ago. And my hairdresser, the renowned Mr Wang failed to do up my hair as I had expected.

I pointed to the cover girl on a magazine with curly hair and asked Mr Wong shyly, “Can I try the curly this time? Very small ones? ”

“Why not? Give it a shot!” Mr Wangseemed very encouraging, just like a father would nod to his sweet girl’s any request. As his long-term customer, I have even more faith in Mr Wong than in Jeremy, my husband, when it comes to hair.

Five hours later, I was gazing at my reflection in the mirror,terrified. The hair is done. With every hair permed in tiny curls, my hair literally stands on end. You would think I had just escaped  a bomb explosion from the battlefield in Iran!

Mr Wong couldn’t be more satisfied with his new work of art.. He slowly moved about me, appreciating my hair from every angle, in a way a butterfly may dance about a most beautiful flower. He  enjoyed my hair in a way a young couple would wonder at the birth of their first-born; or Columbus would marvel at his discovery of the new continent, or tourists would be amazed at the painting by Michelangelo on the ceiling of Sistine Chapel. Mr Wong had been shot by the gold arrows from Cupid, and he inevitably fell in love with me, to be more exact, me in my new hairstyle, made by his own hands.

“What do you think?” he asked me hopefully.

“WOW! Incredible!” I couldn’t think of a better remark..

He gave me a triumphant look. Incredibly awesome. That’s what he feels. Incredibly awful. That’s what I feel.

I walked into the salon, hoping to become a lady as elegant as Grace Kelly.

When I walked out, I WAS A LADY, another one----Lady GAGA.

Why is there so big a gap between fantasy and reality?

I sent a photo of my hair to Jeremy. He came back with words like: Never worried about being hungry. You are a walking bowl of instant noodles, black ones, with sesame flavor. LOL.

The next morning, I woke up very early to make amends. I used sticky hair gels and hair spray to suppress my explosive hairs, but they seemed so rebellious and uncontrollable, and lively, just like teenage boys who would never easily surrender to their parents or teachers, and who long for freedom and struggle for liberty. My hair kept bumping and jumping, dancing and dangling with every small step I took on my way to the office.

I sneaked quietly into the office, but was not fast enough to escape my colleagues attention. They were very close friends to me. That’s why they spared no efforts in making fun of my new hairstyle.

“You looked like Shirley Temple 秀兰邓波儿。Give us a tap dancing!”

“My Mom used to have this small curls. Does small curl come into fashion again?”

“You look exactly like a heroine in MTV, which were made in the 1980s.”

You see? I told you! Close friends are often those who add oil to the fire.

Time to give a lesson. Before I mustered up courage and walked into the classroom, I was like an ant on hot pans. I didn’t know what comments I would receive from my students. I was like a defendant, waiting for the final verdict from the jury, and this time ,jury was all my students.

They were shocked and then laughed to tears.

Up till now, I could still remember their humours remarks on my hair. Kathy you have bird eggs in your hair? It looks like a big nest! Kathy you are a medusa now! Kathy have you been electrified? Kathy are you joking with us? Please turn back into the original hair!

I was amused and I started to defend myself. I smiled and told them: “Don’t judge me by my hair. I may look a bit different from the outside, but my inside is beautiful remained as sweet and beautiful  as flowers in Springtime. ”

That is my story of a recent haircut. Will I still try a new hairstyle? Why not? A Woman like me is never tired of trying something new. What is unchangeable about me is a heart in search of changes. Whenever you change, whether in your hairstyle, the way you talk or walk, the way you live or work, people may comment on you. They may laugh at you and some even give you very harsh words. Don't lose heart.Keep your smile and learn to embrace uncertainty that may come out of changes. Changes inevitably bring difference, liked or disliked. Believe me, in a sense,being different is not something to be afraid of, but something to be proud of.

Besides, Jeremy is right. He always has his own way to cheer me up.

“Kathy, be a trend-setter, not a trend-follower. Start with your new hair!”