"Please God, if I can't look good, at least let me blend in and not look stupid."
Let's face it, we all want to look good. We want to feel attractive and we want people to find us attractive. We want people to say, "wow, I REALLY like your new haircut!" We want that temporary boost to our fragile egos that a great haircut can provide. When we get a stupid haircut, not only do we have to deal with the embarrassment of looking like a dork for weeks on end, but we also have to grieve the loss of how good we COULD have looked.
Sometimes you can see the stupidity of your haircut unfolding right before your eyes. "Jesus! Did she really just snip off an inch when I said half an inch? Ah well, maybe it will look better when its dry and styled.... Shit, I guess not." Sigh...slump. Haircuts are risky endeavors because we don't have much control. When you buy a shirt, you can try it on and see how it looks. You don't have that luxury with a haircut. You can describe what you want but then you have to let go and hope that you aren't mangled.
"Um, can you stop talking to me and pay attention to giving me a haircut?"
Getting a stupid haircut is disempowering because we feel like we will stand out and be noticed for looking stupid instead of looking good. Drawing attention for looking like a dork is disempowering. It also disempowers people who look at your haircut because they will feel pressure to tell you that it looks good when in fact, it does not look good at all. It looks stupid.
When we get a stupid haircut, we can:
- wait a few weeks until it grows out and endure looking like a jackass
- try to cut it shorter and risk looking even stupider
- use gobs of product to create the illusion that it isn't a stupid haircut
- wear a hat everyday for weeks
All of these options are disempowering. Sometimes we pay good money to look stupid. This is the epitome of feeling disempowered. We didn't want it to happen, but it happened anyway. We could blame the stylist and we could blame ourselves, but neither of these will help. Now, with the advent of disempowered.com, we can log on, share our stories and learn to take ourselves less seriously. Disempowered.com: bringing levity and acceptance to the inevitable.