TBT: Hair Edition

I've had the same hairstyle for most of my life.  I can count on one hand how many times my hair has been dyed.  It's been permed once (and that was one time too many).  It's been trimmed a little, and trimmed a lot.  It's been fixed by a professional when things have gone wrong, and now it's starting to change colors on it's own.

I've always had a love/hate relationship with my hair.  It's very thick and wavy, and while it does have some natural curl, it's at times hard to manage.  It wasn't until I found "professional salon products" that I was actually able to care for and manage my hair.

So this is my hair journey, the good, the bad, and the worst.  Aren't you excited?  You should be.  Here's a little hair evolution:

{Hot rollers.  Getting ready for my first dance recital.}

{Age 5 with baby bangs.}

{3rd grade.  Thick bangs and flyaways.}

My hair has always been super thick.  For the first decade of my life, my hair was long and left to it's own demise.

Around age 10, we (probably my mom and I) decided a shorter haircut would look good.  So, we chopped off several inches, leaving my thick hair to "mushroom" out.  Yes.  I had that haircut.  I'm not even going to show you a picture of that.

I would let my hair grow back out over the next several years, going back to my old look of long and unruly.

{Middle school look.}

{Discovering hot rollers.}

The summer before my freshman year of high school I decided I needed a change, ushering in the first of two phases of "short haircut Angela."  I chopped off probably eight inches for that cute "stacked" look from the late 90's.  Unfortunately, my hair was super thick and wavy so that "stacked" look really just looked messy and wavy a lot of the time.

{Freshman year look.}

What do you do when your hair is short and won't "stack?"  You perm it of course.  True story.  You can use your imagination on this one too.  

You know that girl who has to completely change her hairstyle after a traumatic experience (a break-up perhaps)?  Yeah, I'm that girl.  A few months after perming my short hair, I completely chopped it off into a pixie cut (phase two of "short haircut Angela).  I didn't think of how this boyish haircut would look on my small boyish frame, or how it would look with my expensive Christmas Ball dress.  This haircut would take a couple of years to grow back out.  I learned I'm not a short hair person.  That was the last time my hair was that short.

{The "pixie" after it had grown out a bit.  I can't even.  I just can't.}

I didn't touch my hair again until freshman year of college.  My roommate was coloring her hair at the bathroom sink and I thought, I should do that.  So, I bought 3 boxes of haircolor (because of my thick hair) in a color 4 shades lighter than my own color.  Wouldn't you know it, my hair turned orange.  I mean orange.

{Orange hair don't care.  Also shout out to my college besties.}

So, during Christmas break I had someone "fix" my orange hair and also take a little length off.  I came back to college with black hair that was way shorter than I had wanted.  Hairstylist fail.  I did try to dye my own hair again eventually, this time going a bit darker.  My hair looked no different after, so I was pretty much done dying my hair after that.

{Who hasn't dyed their hair while wearing a trash bag?}

A couple of years later, I was looking for a hairstylist in my college town, when one of my classmates suggested a salon.  I should've known better when the place was called "Mojo Pie."  I mean, what is that?  The girl cutting my hair got to work and all was going great until she cut my hair into a mullet.  I wish I was kidding.  It was short in the front and long in the back.  I cried for weeks and wore my hair in a ponytail for two full months.  Every.  Single.  Day. The only thing worse than having a mullet, is growing out a mullet.

{After the mullet had grown out a bit.}

Don't forget the time I cut my own bangs.

I vowed to never cut my hair again.  I didn't really, for several years.  Luckily I found an excellent hairstylist in St. Louis who kept me looking great, even though I was very sporadic in my visits.  I was probably the worst hair client ever, only coming in once or twice a year.  Enter, the year of long long hair.

{A few months before "the big cut.}

It had probably been 10 months or longer since my last haircut when I decided to donate it.  I would grow it out as long as I could, until I couldn't take it anymore.  Then, I would cut it and donate it.  A few months later, when my hair was getting caught in the waistband of my pants (and my thick heavy hair was causing major headaches literally), I made the cut.  I think I lost 11 or 12 inches in length, and my hair was the shortest it had been in years.  Read about that haircut here.

{Right after the cut.}

Since "the big cut," I've maintained a normal length (for me), my hair has decided to lighten itself (I've got a natural ombre going on you guys), and after having Katherine about half of it fell out (I totally freaked).  Thankfully, my horrendous post baby thinning hair grew back over time.  I will never take for granted my thick hair again.  Probably.  

{Current hair.}

I wish I was brave enough to completely change my hair color, but I'm not that brave.  Plus, I don't want it to turn orange again.