Chopped


Urban Outfitters ruched tube top & jeans* | Monki top | Nike AF1s | Moschino belt via Farfetch*

Photographs by Lydia Collins

As I sat in Bluetit's ~trendy~ Peckham branch, inches of my wet hair, that had been on my head moments before, were now found across the floor and I tweeted 'Today I am chopping off all my hair which is 1. my pride and joy & 2. my security blanket. C u on the other side of my mid-20s crisis.'

Looking back, I was always good at hair as a kid; I was always the one doing 'up-dos' for mates for the school disco until we hit puberty and the internet happened and then people actually became good at doing hair. Fast forward to 2017 and I'm happy with a rough dry - there's a small chance that I'll give up twenty minutes sleep to curl it, should the occasion be important enough.

My hair may take bloody forever to wash EVERY day, and god forbid the days I go to the gym and end up washing it twice (because I have a memory like a sieve and my hair wash routine in the morning is on auto), but it's the one thing I've never had a hang up about - aside from the year I let a hairdresser dye a small portion of it blue but the less said about that the better tbh. It may not be thick but my god, there are plenty of fine strands. *writes gross joke about length rather than girth*.

There's so much to be said about a new hair colour or style. It can give you an unexpected lease of life and honestly, who doesn't need that in January.

A week and a half on, I have hair up to my shoulders and whilst it took some getting used to, I'm pretty keen on my new hair length.

As for my security blanket? It's been chopped away but, at almost 26, it's probably time I stopped trying to hide behind it anyway.

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