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I was always known as the girl with the very long hair. Only looking back now can I appreciate how incredible my hair really was, it was halfway down my back (and for a girl of 5’ 8”, that’s quite a long way down), it naturally waved, and in hindsight, it was pretty low maintenance. Yet I always knew one day I would face the chop, and I knew my 20’s has me taking the plunge from long to short hair.

At first I only went to shoulder-length, to make it somewhat less drastic, but this was all it took to be bitten by the hair-change-bug, and I wanted to keep going. There is something so exciting about having a drastic cut – the comments from people; how different all your outfits look; the shock in the mirror when you had forgotten it was cut. Yet this novelty wore off pretty quickly for me, and before long I was back in the hairdresser’s chair, getting myself a very short cut indeed.

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I loved it. But nobody ever warns you about the intense styling needed with a short haircut. The days of a quick blast from the hairdryer were long gone; leaving it to dry naturally was an absolute no-no; and investing in decent straighteners was suddenly a necessity. On the plus side, it did dry incredibly fast…

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Yet for some reason, when it’s cut short, you start to reminisce about having those long, versatile locks. The hair you could plait, and fishtail, or pull up into a bun, and do anything you bloody wanted with it. You didn’t, of course, but when you suddenly don’t have the option, it’s hard to take. You start to dream of having hair long enough to tie into a high pony. You suddenly want to try out a milk-braid, but no matter how much you pull at your hair it just won’t get any longer. Even the laws of physics are against you.

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I thought it was time to go back to longer hair – maybe never as long as it was before, but long enough to at least tie back away from my face. The dreaded in-between stage, however, caused me to rush back to the hairdressers on several occasions, with blissful memories of how fast my barnet used to dry, and how much easier and nicer it was before the ends used to follow the shape of my neck and flick out in a 60’s style.

Eventually, I decided enough was enough. The only way to get past the horrendous in-between stage (and the only way to stop my bank card from groaning so much) was to power through . It took a seemingly very long time – of course, when you want it to grow, it never does – but I finally passed that stage. My hair fell just past my shoulders and around the base of my neck.

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What have I learnt about my hair over the past few years? Of course, the grass is always greener – or the hair is always better – on the other side. Every cut has its pluses; every style has its pros. Equally, every haircut has downsides too. So I decided to have the best of both worlds, and just recently I got my hair cut into an a-line bob: long at the front, short at the back. Hopefully, it will finally give me the lovely green grass I long for… only time will tell.

Louise bob