Like a queen

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Hello friends! I finally cut my own hair to a short A-line bob so it is officially short and off my collar. I haven’t had such hair for quite a long time. I decided to write a story about my feelings and experiences. I hope you will enjoy it.


I remember washing my long hair for the last time. It wasn’t that long though my venetian blonde locks did not reach further than my shoulderplates. It was so thick and wavy I was excited to get rid of it. You may ask why I decided to cut my own hair short since it is a hard job to do all alone. Well, let me tell you I’ve had intense hair fetish for my whole life. I would had been way too embarassed to ask a hairdresser to shear my beloved tresses since I would have gotten way too wet under the cape. On the other hand, I became crazy jelaous of any woman I saw with short and tidy hair. ‘I had enough of this ridiculous amount of mess on my head’ – I thought as I brushed my wet hair.


I locked myself into my dimly-lit bedroom right after taking a shower. It was around midnight. I trim my hair every month or three weeks since I usually do some layers or I thin it out. However, I knew it was different this time.


I sectioned my hair like a pro – two front sections and four in the back. First I chopped off the lenght in the back just above my shoulders. I was so satisfied as I saw all that wet hair falling to my cotton PJ shirt then it trembled to the floor. Then I did the A-line shape in the front. I noticed small hair stands all over my clothing since I decided not to use a cape. I blowdried my hair then I moved to some details. I cut myself luscious curtain bangs and some face framing. I thinned it out generously. I got rid of one or two handfuls of hair. I knew I won’t miss any of it. I really loved the front so I checked the back using my hand mirror. I was in shock since it was really uneven. I hated it so much.


Since my T-shirt was covered with hair I took it off. I was ready to get my naked, pale breasts messy. I knew if I do not fix my hair (or even make it worse) then I will really have to visit a hairdresser and a get a really short haircut. But I did it anyways. I just went for it. I was gently chopping and trimming my tiny hairs in the back section. I sheared it with the most precision. I decided to make it completely blunt. I just craved that sophisticated and ladylike look. I wanted to be a better version of myself.


I kept track of my progress using the hand mirror. At some point I noticed I went shorter than I planned. However it looked really beautiful with the longer front sections. I had a great satisfaction once I noticed I finished straightening out the back section. I felt incredibly attractive. I ran my fingers through my shorn tresses with a smile on my face. I checked it out multiple times using a handmirror, even in daylight. It looked like silk that had been cropped tiny.


I cleaned my body with a wet towel and went to bed. Before falling asleep I grazed my fingers through my hair multiple times and I was so glad I kept cutting.


The next day it was a cool and windy day so I put on a woolen skirt with a cardigan instead of my casual jeans paired with a T-shirt. I also wore my thick framed glasses as usual. My mom noticed how put together I looked. She was staring at me for minutes. I was nervous about her insulting me because of having short hair, she had done such thing before. Heck, she was young in the 90s, she was more of a grungy girl. She was never a fan of looking elegant nor ladylike.


“Why did you cut your hair so short? You always loved your long hair.”

“I just like it this way.” – I said as I was putting on my oxford shoes.

“I hope you did really cut it evenly. However… I already told you: a Cleopatra cut is more suitable for you than long hair. It is easier to maintain. And you have a lot of hair.”


I rolled my eyes with frustration. Fun fact: in my native language a bob haircut is usually called a Cleopatra cut. I sprayed some perfume on my vintage clothes and once again I checked out myself in the mirror. Seeing myself with such a conservative and modest yet sensual haircut was so unusal. I loved how it curled above my broad yet feminine shoulders.


From that day I started to wear smarter clothes than ever. I looked like an old fashioned intelligentsia lady despite being only 21. My mates at university would stare at me. My old friends wearing Y2K fashion would wonder what had happended to me. I just earned some dignity. I became one of those people who prefer reading classics in the park. I became a real lady. One of my friends really appreaciated my makeover. He said I finally have some victorian vibes.

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