Gemma Cartwright gets a bit self-indulgent in her latest exploration of 'beauty'...
My best friend and I have a deal. Whenever I contemplate getting a fringe cut in my hair I have to phone her for a quick consultation, where she will remind me that I have a cowlick that makes straightening said fringe almost impossible, and that I resemble a 12-year-old girl when I get one cut. She knows this because she knew me as a 12-year-old with a fringe.
Like many women, whenever something significant happens in my life - be it a house move, a new job, a big holiday, a family reunion, a new relationship (or the end of an old one) - my first thought is 'oh, I should get my hair cut'. You'd think, then, that my hair changes constantly because of this.
Um, no...
Like one of my (many) heroines - Jo in Little Women - I've often been told that my hair is my 'one beauty'. In fact, before I wrote this piece I asked my friends what my best feature was and they all replied "your hair". It's taken a long time to learn how to tame it, but I'm now a master at the art of Making Gemma's Hair Look Ok. If I say I'm going to cut it or dye it I'm met with dozens of protestations. They're usually right. Even though I despise wasting time washing and drying my long locks, almost every haircut I've ever had has been a mistake that I've grown out almost immediately. I know, deep down, that I am best with long hair. I'm like Samson, if you cut my hair, I lose my powers. But still I fall into the trap of wanting 'a change' over and over again.
This has meant some great disasters; a bob that simultaneously made me look like a little child and someone's mother. Tiger stripe highlights that should've been copper and blonde and ended up pink and yellow. And don't even get me started on the many, many mistaken fringes I've grown out over the last few years. Eventually I always ended up going back to my old ways. Long, layered and subtly blonde.
The way we wear our hair says a lot about our personality. I've admitted before that I hide behind my long thick locks, using my hair as a way of distracting people from the bits of myself I don't like. I think a lot of long-haired ladies are like that. Long hair is safe, feminine and traditional. In contrast, women with short, choppy cuts are supposedly more open, honest and 'what you see is what you get'. They're the risk takers. When asked if she thought this was true, my colleague Kat (who has short black hair) said "that's me to a tee!". It may be generalising just a tad, but I do think it takes a lot of confidence to hack off all your hair. After all, we don't all look as wonderful as Natalie Portman with a buzzcut. It's a similar thing with colour. Susi gets bright flashes of red in her brunette hair, which reflect her confident, fun personality. My mother only dyes her hair to hide the grey. She's been a brunette her whole life. For her it's all about looking natural.
I suppose I should just give in and admit that so much of who I am is tied up in my hair that I will never change it very much. I even live in fear that I will be one of those old women who refuses to cut her hair. I'll be seventy, slightly senile and still french plaiting my long white hair, telling people that if I cut it my dad will get upset (he still gives me disapproving looks if I lop off more than a couple of inches). I just pity the poor fool who has to help me wash it!
Gemma Cartwright is Shiny Media's fashion editor. Last week she was tempted to cut her hair short. She was very easily persuaded against it.
