So, I got this idea in my head, right? I wanted those Angelina Jolie bangs. You’ve seen them. The kind that just fall perfectly, a bit wispy, super cool. I kept seeing pictures of her, especially from her younger days, and I thought, “Yeah, I need that.” It seemed like such a good idea at the time.
The Grand Plan (or Lack Thereof)
I didn’t overthink it much, to be honest. That’s usually how my best and worst decisions start. I just woke up one day, looked in the mirror, and decided my forehead needed… company. Angelina’s bangs seemed like the perfect companions. I grabbed a few pictures from the internet – not on my phone, mind you, I actually printed one out, like it was 2005 all over again. I thought, “This is it. This is the change I need.”
My regular hairdresser, bless her soul, was on vacation. Big mistake number one: going to someone new for something drastic. But I was impatient. I found a salon nearby that had good reviews, or so I thought. Walked in, showed the picture, and said, “This. I want this.” The stylist, super young, nodded with so much confidence it should have been a warning sign. “Oh yeah, easy,” she said. Famous last words.
The Snipening
So, there I was, in the chair. The cape went on. She combed my hair forward. And then the snipping started. Snip, snip, snip. It sounded… enthusiastic. I closed my eyes for a bit, picturing myself emerging like a butterfly, or at least like Angelina Jolie in “Girl, Interrupted.”
She kept asking, “Shorter?” and I, trusting the process (big mistake number two), just mumbled, “Like the picture.” At one point, I peeked. There was a significant pile of hair on the floor. More than I expected for just bangs. I remember a tiny voice in my head saying, “Hmm, that’s quite a commitment you’re making there,” but I shushed it.
The Big Reveal and The Aftermath
Then she spun me around. And… well. It was bangs, alright. But they weren’t exactly Angelina Jolie’s bangs. They were more like… startled surprised bangs. A bit shorter than anticipated. A lot more blunt. And they had this weird flip thing going on, no matter what I did. My hair, you see, has a mind of its own. It doesn’t do wispy and effortless without a fight.
The first few days were rough. I tried everything:
- Wetting them down constantly.
- Trying to blow-dry them into submission with a round brush.
- Considering just shaving them off and starting over (kidding… mostly).
- Wearing a lot of headbands. Like, a lot.
I looked less like Angelina Jolie and more like a person who had a small, furry creature attached to their forehead. My friends were polite. “Oh, new bangs!” they’d say, with that slightly strained smile. Bless them.
What I Learned from the Bang Debacle
So, what did I learn from my quest for Angelina Jolie bangs? First off, pictures are a suggestion, not a guarantee. Especially if your hair texture is the polar opposite of the celebrity in question. My hair is not Angelina’s hair. That was a tough pill to swallow.
Secondly, “effortless chic” usually involves a ton of behind-the-scenes effort, or just being born with ridiculously compliant hair. Or having a personal stylist on call 24/7. I have none of those things. And thirdly, patience is a virtue, especially when it comes to hairdressers. Waiting for my regular stylist would have been the smarter move.
The bangs eventually grew out, as bangs do. It was a journey. There were good days, bad days, and days I just wore a hat. Would I do it again? Maybe. But next time, I’m bringing a picture of myself with good bangs, not someone else. Or maybe I’ll just embrace the forehead. It’s been there for me all along, after all.
