Bowlcut Is My World, Part 1 – Katie

Prologue

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my heart thumping against my ribcage like a frantic bird trying to escape. My long strands of hair cascaded down to my waist, a warm chestnut colour that I had always loved. But on that day, the love felt like a distant memory.

‘Come on, Katie. You know this is for the best,’ Dad said, his voice steady, but I could tell a tremor of uncertainty tinged it. He was trying to remain firm for both of us.

I glanced back at him, his face framed by the dim light of the barber shop. We had supported each other in everything since Mum had left us. I had made the tentative suggestion regarding my hair, and I did not blame him for encouraging me.

Even though I was in college, I could not easily manage my long hair without Mum’s help. And I knew how difficult it must have been for Dad to help me care for it. He struggled with braiding it for my swimming and other activities, and he recoiled whenever he needed to unravel the tangles. Although I had made the original suggestion, I was having second thoughts about having my hair cut.

‘But I don’t want my hair short. After all, every other girl I know has long hair,’ I bleated, and not for the first time. However, sitting in that chair, made the possibility of losing my hair feel horribly real.

Dad sighed, unconsciously brushing his fingers through his recently smartened up hair. ‘Katie, you want you to look good, and this cut will help. With it short, it will be easy to care for after swimming, and you will look good all the time. Plus, it will be practical for your time in college. And Athena has promised it will be easy to maintain.’

At the mention of Athena, my stomach knotted. She was Dad’s new girlfriend, who had unexpectedly breezed into our lives. She was fun and lively and that was good for Dad. But, annoyingly for me, she was a barber.

After Mum had left us, Dad had neglected his appearance, especially his hair, and I had urged him to find a good salon and have it tidied up. Unfortunately, he chose Cutting Edge by Athena, her own barbershop, rather than a fashionable salon. Admittedly, he did receive a good haircut but, even more surprisingly, a new girlfriend as well.

‘Yeah, but it’s just … well, I love my hair!’ I argued desperately, seated in Cutting Edge, but deep down, I felt the inevitability of it all. ‘It’s part of who I am.’

‘Trust me,’ Dad said, his eyes displaying the belief he had in his girlfriend’s skills. ‘Athena knows what she’s doing.’

Preparation

When we had stepped inside Cutting Edge by Athena, Dad’s girlfriend’s austere little shop, the aroma of hair products filled my lungs. Athena had stood expectantly by her large shining metal and red barber’s chair, as Dad had sat me down, using carefully chosen words to settle me.

I shrugged off my well-worn denim jacket, revealing the yellow minidress underneath both contributing to my favourite outfit. Athena took my precious jacket, draped it over a coat hanger, and hung it from a nearby hook. As she turned back, Dad focused his attention on his new girlfriend, and I did my best to ignore their embarrassing teenage-like smooching.

A striking woman, tall and slim, with a short and sharp flattop haircut. A masculine style but with her tight-fitting red lace top and black leather miniskirt, Athena resembled anything but a man. An attractive, but imposing, presence that the men and boys who comprised her clientele would indisputably revel in, as my dad clearly did. However, I simply found her scary and intimidating.

Dad had taken his place on a bench against one wall that was set aside for waiting customers. Looking in the mirror in front of me, I observed his reflection. Although there was a magazine in his hand, his uneasy gaze flitted nervously all over the place. Whenever we made eye contact in the mirror, he plastered a sickly grin over his face. Although I could not hear him, he mouthed what I assumed were positive words of encouragement to steady my nerves. They did not work!

Leaning back against the shelf in front of me, Athena’s piercing hazel eyes held mine. She smiled encouragingly at me, her infectious breeze of enthusiasm enveloping me.

‘So, Katie!’ she chirped, her voice buzzing with energy. ‘Are you ready for your big transformation? When you leave here, I promise that you are going to look awesome!’

I looked at Dad, seeking comfort, but he was pretending the dog-eared car magazine in his hands now warranted all his attention.

‘Just get on with it,’ I sighed, more harshly that I had intended. After all, she was only trying to help us.

‘Right …’ she responded, her enthusiasm dipping slightly, edged with disappointment.

Surveying my appearance in the mirror for one final time, I committed the familiar image to memory. My favourite short summer dress, the yellow cotton, dotted with small blue flowers, and held up by thin straps that served to keep my cleavage in check. It beautifully complemented my glossy auburn hair framing my face, flowing like a waterfall over my shoulders, before gathering in my lap. I shuddered at the thought of letting my familiar identity go, and I began worrying that the clothes in my wardrobe would not match my new haircut.

Symbolically for me, but with practicality in mind for Athena, she draped a large white cape over me. It covered me from my neck down to floor. Unless I stopped the madness, my established identity would disappear forever. As I contemplated my predicament, Athena began brushing my long hair, her fingers skilfully dancing through the strands in a dramatic prelude to my transformation.

Athena, smiling broadly, purred. ‘So, Katie, I heard you want to go short.’

Consultation

‘Well, Dad is encouraging me to go short,’ I explained to Athena, a slight bitterness edging my tone.

‘Right …’ she repeated. ‘Well, you know I am a barber so short is what I do for all the guys that come in here. It’s what they want, and it’s what I’m good at. So, I’ll do the longest of those styles for you, Katie.’

“Longest” sounded like the most acceptable compromise I could hope for. Especially in a dingy barbershop, from a chirpy female barber who was more used to male company.

‘Fine,’ I confirmed unenthusiastically, glancing in the mirror at my apprehensive expression, framed by my long hair that fell from its centre parting.

‘Cool!’ Athena exclaimed, grabbing the scissors from her belt with undisguised glee. Without further comment, she placed the shining blades of the scissors around a section of my hair, level with my ears.

Execution

Athena’s first slice through my hair echoed around the shop like a thunderclap. I gasped as a huge chunk of my hair slid down the side of my face and gathered in my lap, a pile of chestnut chaos. I caught Dad’s eye, and he nodded encouragingly, despite him looking as shocked as I felt.

I could not shake the sorrow that seeped in the crevices of my heart as another long lock glided down past my shoulder and tumbled into my lap. Another tress soon followed. The increasing weight of the severed hair was disconcerting. Athena, perhaps recognising this, gathered the cut lengths and stretched them out neatly on the shelf under the mirror. It was an alarming sight.

‘I’ll make you the trendiest girl in college, just you wait!’ Athena announced, as her scissors continued to follow the line she had established, level with my ears. Her swift action was a blur. In a remarkably brief time, she had worked her way all around my head. A thick length of severed hair laid out on the shelf before me, and Athena had left me with hair that resembled a closed-cup mushroom perched on my head.

The style that Athena had fashioned did not resemble a gentle, moderately long woman’s bobbed style. It was a haircut that a generous person might consider as a vaguely fashionable bowlcut on a young schoolboy. But a bowlcut that was both drastic and severe. I realised that, with Athena being a barber, she believed a bowlcut was a long hairstyle. I begrudgingly accepted that it was the longest style that she ever cut on any of her male clientele.

Looking good, Katie,’ Athena chirped, ‘nearly there.’

“Nearly there?”, I silently questioned, my expression mournful. My remaining bowl-shaped hair balanced high up on my crown, revealing my ears to the world. Furthermore, I had a thick blunt fringe that only fell halfway down my forehead. I had so little hair remaining, I struggled to comprehend what else did she intended doing.

Finalisation

In response to my unasked question, a loud whining sound filled the air. Athena had grasped her large red hairclippers from a hook by the mirror and fired them into life. Smiling at me in the mirror, she brandished the frightful device, unambiguously revealing what she proposed doing next.

‘No …’ I whimpered forlornly, not wishing to believe her intention with such an awful instrument of torture.

‘Oh, yes, Katie,’ Athena chirped excitedly. ‘As I said, not long now,’ she added eagerly. Clearly, she had mistakenly assumed I was arguing against the time she had said was remaining. However, I was referring to my fervent desire for her not to shave me with hairclippers. ‘These beauties will clean up the back and sides of your head in no time at all,’ she giggled, unnecessarily cruelly I thought.

Athena swiftly cleaning me up was what I had been afraid of. But as she enthusiastically drove the blade of the clippers up my neck, along the back of my head, and around my ears, I accepted that any further resistance was useless.

‘Ta-da!’ Athena announced triumphantly, as she whisked away the cape in a manner that suggested she was unveiling a stunning piece of art to the world. ‘There you go, Katie. All done!’

Reflection

I gasped. I did not recognise the reflection staring back at me. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat but failed.

‘Oh no! I look like a boy!’ I whimpered, my voice barely above a whisper. ‘A boy with a bowlcut!’

‘Oh, Katie, you look fabulous!’ Athena assured me, and her enthusiasm was surreal, as if she failed to recognise that she had just shaved away my identity. ‘The short bob,’ she said, subtly softening the definition of the style, ‘goes so well with that pretty dress, and you unquestionably look like a very attractive girl.’

‘It’s bowlcut,’ I grumbled.

But surprisingly, I had to concede that my dress did not look too out of place with my drastically shortened hair. Even if I did not look like me!

Dad appeared subdued as he got to his feet. ‘There, Katie, hasn’t Athena done a nice job,’ he murmured unconvincingly. ‘Much more practical, and … er, well, nice.’

As Dad and Athena said their soppy and sentimental farewells, I spent my time staring in the mirror. I shivered as I tentatively explored the fine clippered pelt on my neck with my fingers. Impatiently, I attempted to stretch the longer hair of the bowl to reach my ears and cover the short bristles that she had laid bare. Unsurprisingly, my hair sprung back up and it made absolutely no difference.

Aggression

‘So, Katie, you should come back every two or three weeks so I can keep your hair looking sharp,’ Athena declared, firing her parting shot at me once she had untangled herself from Dad.

I rewarded her with my best uncompromising glare. ‘Athena, I do not wish to keep it looking sharp,’ I stated pompously, increasingly incensed by her complacent attitude, my tone catching them both off guard.

Dad attempted to calm me down. ‘Katie -’

‘I will be growing my hair out,’ I snapped, speaking over my dad, ‘and, once it has grown sufficiently long, then I will be visiting a proper ladies hairdressing salon,’ I emphasised pompously, ‘and I will have my hair styled into something more befitting my age and gender.’

‘Right …’ Athena sighed. ‘Well, Katie, if you’re not happy with the cute bowlcut then there is a world of other haircuts we can try, but for now -’

‘So, for now,’ I interjected, glumly echoing her words, ‘Bowlcut is my World.’

Frustratingly, Athena smiled, giving me an enthusiastic nod of agreement.

To be continued

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