In Defense of the Pixie Cut

I own a rare model of Barbie dolls from the 60’s with a short bubble cut hairdo. Normally, the only short haired Barbies involved your little sister, a pair of safety scissors, and some generally bad decision making skills.

When I was young there were three haircuts for girls: long; pixie cut; and pixie cut grow-out. Mid-length hair was just the shameful recovery period for large-skulled girls who thought they could look like Twiggy if they cut their hair short.

Someone forgot to tell my mom that pixies are delicate little creatures, who are seldom referred to as “sturdy.” My mom decided that my sisters and I would look adorable in pixie cuts. She regretted her decision immediately. It took years to undo the damage of that day, and she can still get me to take out her garbage by threatening to cut my hair, and I’ve been living on my own for over 30 years.

I was going to rock long hair till the day I died, … then I hit menopause. It turns out that hot flashes trump vanity. I generally have to do my hat shopping in the melon-head section next to the extra large scarves, and the faux alligator skin handbags. Fortunately, hard hats are adjustable, so when I ordered the one size fits all, success! I’m preparing to find a large equipment rental place so I can take a picture of myself with a bulldozer, so I needed the hard hat for the photo. Yes, I’m going to go kick the tires on a couple tons of steel, pretending to be a serious shopper. I thought that short hair would be more convincing. Surely, by now my face has thinned out a bit with age, making my head look less lumpy.

Now that the deed is done, I’m surprised that it’s not awful looking. It’s actually kind of cute. Where fiction writers need to suspend disbelief, I just need to convince myself that there is such a thing as lumberjack pixies who drive bulldozers.

Twiggy has nothing to worry about.