A year ago I shaved my head. I could say it was a feminist statement against the vanity of modern beauty. I could say it was a well planned excursion into the deeper realm of character building, an exercise to discover my inner vixen. I’d even love to be able to tell you I was the inspiration for Britney Spear’s latest cry for attention with my push-the-envelope rip off of mid-nineties French runway model haircuts…
But the truth is – it was just a tragic bleaching accident. Oopsy-daisy.
Anywho, I decided to do a collection of pictures to commemorate the one year event. Since I don’t have any ready pictures of before I was blond (the bleaching hysteria that started this whole mess) I’ll start with the pics I do have.
Blonde
Blonde-er
Bald…
What have I learned about myself in this process? A lot. I loved being bald. I LOVED IT! There was a sense of freedom so clear and tangible. Knowing I was completely cut loose from the idea that I had to look “polished” “fashionable” “sexy” or any of the other labels that come with being a woman and having hair. You are expected to look “put together” and I quite simply didn’t fit the standard mold of expectations as a bald woman. I was something entirely different and while I can’t find a name for it at the moment it was something along the lines of “exotic” and “out of bounds” 
2 months
4 months
6 months
7-8 months-ish
As my hair grew in there were a few adventures that I hadn’t counted on, Sunburns on the scalp, hard rain that nearly had me jumping out of my skin with the strangeness of the sensation, people stopping me to comment (mostly good), and random strangers who would open up to me about their cancer stories, and the occasional person that would come up and give me a buff. Then there was my niece asking me if I was wearing a wig.
After several months the fuzzy mass on my head couldn’t seem to be controlled by anything less than a really heavy shea butter. I’m not kidding. To keep from looking like an electrified downy animal, I’d slather vanilla shea butter in the fluff on my head and try to style it one direction.
Finally, after about four or five months it was long enough to lay on its own. But talk about serious bed head in the morning. Wow.It grew back with a little different consistency, which I’d expected. It’s thicker and when the humidity is high the curl I had in high school comes bouncing back. Ringlets near my neck and wavy weirdness on the top. I admit to doing a few batches of red dye over the year, but I haven’t been brave enough to bleach… yet.
10 months
Will I ever bleach again? Absolutley, I adored being blonde. Will I ever shave my head again – I hope so. I really do. So much fun. The most important thing I think I learned was that I have no fear losing my hair again. Age, or sickness or fashion or whatever, I no longer think I have to have long luxurious hair to feel sexy, attractive or spunky. I can still feel that way bald, short haired, fluffy or curly, red headed, blonde or brunette – I’m finally comfortable with a part of myself that I didn’t particularly care about before I took it all away and started over from scratch.
One Year Later.
Plus, as Jeffy pointed out, “The coolest thing about shaving your head is that you can wash your hair with a bar of soap.” Thanks Jeffy, I couldn’t have said it better myself.
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