I just had a painful realization. My life, since approximately age 12, has been a complete and utter sham. Everything I thought to be "mine" now turns out to be borrowed from others. My hair -- the source of all identity -- does not belong to me. It is merely a copy of someone famous enough to grace the pages of US Weekly and (when I was in middle school) Seventeen Magazine.
I am a celebrity hair slut.
There, I said it. It's out.
In sixth grade, I tried the "Rachel." You know, the early days of Jennifer Aniston on "Friends?" The rage that swept the nation, as if layered hair was an innovative concept never done before? I tried that. That was mistake number one.
The lady who did it to me was one of those hair stylists who worked out of her house and whose clientele was made up primarily of old grandmother-types who actually come in weekly to get their hair "set."
That was mistake number two. Getting the "Rachel" done by someone who specializes in the hair of the elderly was a rather disastrous move for an awkward, budding 13 year old. It was like having Edward Scissorhands hacking your hair off from every which way.
But I'm not sure any hairdo could have counteracted the deleterious effects of wearing braces during your most self-conscious years.
That was in sixth grade, around the time that I thought that Mia's were the bomb-diggity and begged my mom to allow me to wear such "high-heeled" (read: 1.5 inches) shoes.
Then came eighth grade, and the requisite obsession with The WB's "Dawson's Creek." No longer did I want to be Rachel Green. No, no. I wanted to be Joey Potter, the girl next door whose blunt-cut and ability to overanalyze everything got her any boy she wanted (read: Pacey) ... or didn't want (read: Dawson).
P.S. What ever happened to Pacey? Everyone thought he might go somewhere post-"Dawson's," but it turns out his best acting performances were found in "The Skulls" and "Cruel Intentions."
The star who actually made it somewhere, the used-to-be-trashy-chubby-and-annoying Jen (Michelle Williams), somehow managed to slim down, ace come acting classes, win an Oscar and marry hottie Heath Ledger. And the star who could have made it somewhere, but somehow lost her body and soul to the pod people, is the one-and-only Joey Potter (Katie Holmes of TomKat).
It was yesterday, while discussing with roommates the alien baby to whom Katie gave birth, that I realized I am a celebrity hair slut. And look what's happened: Joey Potter, while cute at 15, has become a Psychofreak Follower, brainwashed by Psychofreak Numero Uno, Tom Cruise. (He too, in his teen years was rather adorable. Who didn't love that scene from "Risky Business?" I, like Katie, had a crush on the young Mr. Cruise. But, unlike Katie, I have not been sucked in to the psychosis of scientology and agreed to give silent fake birth to Xenu's lovechild from the planet Nostra in order to become the next Mrs. Cruise.)
Back to the hair: first there was the "Rachel," then there was the "Joey." Then in high school, was the return of the "Rachel," "Rachel Part Deux," which was more of Rachie's long-layered look with highlights. Innovative, I know.
I had kept this hair until recently. Any time people criticized Rachel, I felt a little offended, since I felt a small connection on the hairstyle level with her. I had her hair. I had her back.
But the days of Rachie are long gone. They were replaced by lofty ambitions of looking like Sienna Miller. I took pictures of Sienna's long locks and achieved a similar look: blond and layered (note that the look is pretty much always the same, but the celebrity has changed).
This look was fabulous and I enjoyed pretending to be Sienna by lining my upper and lower lids in black liner and incorporating boho chic looks into my wardrobe.
But then disaster struck: Sienna changed her hair. She chopped it. And there was no way I was going Edie Sedgewick just to keep up with Sienna.
So the last time I went in to get my hair done, I brought in pics of the old Sienna as well as some pics of Kate Hudson (why not mix it up a little?). I have the color down. But the cut? I don't know what to do. The lad who chopped my locks said he thought this length would be good for me, that I was too much in my "comfort zone" with long hair. And my hair at this point is by no means "short," but it's shorter than it's ever been.
The existential crisis I find myself in right now is that, though I have Sienna's color, I cannot find a celebrity whose cut my hair accurately emulates.
All US Weekly celebs either have short hair or long hair. There is no "medium," just below the shoulder, length to speak of. My hair is in celebrity no-man's-land and I am forced to live with the consequences. The best I could find was Helen Hunt, circa (I think) 2002.
I love Helen Hunt, but let's face it, she's no Sienna. Yet, just moments ago, I decided to once more try Google Images and see what I could come up with. I searched for the tried-but-true Jen "don't feel sorry for me!" Aniston and found the jackpot. It's the cut she was rarely photographed in -- the "in between" do she had after chopping it all off to a bob a few years ago only to realize she looked like a soccer mom:
It's not what I was shooting for when I entered Vidal Sassoon last week with pics of Sienna and Kate Hudson. But then again, I should have expected it. Some things never change, and apparently there will always be a little "Rachel" in me (obv, minus the Bod and the Schnoz).
Maybe I am a celebrity hair slut, but I always go back to the gal whose hair made her famous. You can't blame a girl for testing the waters.
And rumor has it, Sienna just got extensions. If they're an awkward "medium" length, there just might be hope for me after all.
