My Birthday Is Coming And I Need A Haircut

Now, you may think those two things, (an approaching birthday and shaggy hair) have nothing in common but the "and"...

BUT, for a good month now I've been thinking it's time to get a haircut- maybe even a new style, and whenever I think about my particular "style" (or lack thereof) I get to thinking about how irritating and unhelpful society is.

I frequently bemoan the fact that I was born in 1963 and not 1903. Had I been born in a more appropriate decade, I would have been turning 52 in 1955 instead of 2015. I've always felt a little out of sync with the world around me; I was a Stay-At-Home-Mom when being a working Mom was more in vogue. We were a family of 6 when McDonald's hadn't evolved beyond tables with only four chairs. I liked sewing and knitting and cooking and baking and ironing and washing dishes and doing laundry. I liked being a homemaker when there were few other homemakers living nearby. I was Laura Petrie longing for a Millie next door.

Although I've come to terms with being born too late, the fashion/style of today makes me frustrated. In 1953 you knew what you were expected to look like. You could look at a woman and know by her hairstyle how old she probably was, and whether she was a grandmother,  had teenaged children or babies in diapers. A person knew how to dress. A person knew how to do their hair. No guesswork.

As it is, I can't think about getting a hair cut without thinking about my age, and stressing about what kind of style is appropriate for a 52 year old Nana of two with grown children. I know, I know, everyone says, "Whatever you like! That's appropriate!" But there's a danger of looking like one is trying to be younger than one is- of trying to recapture or hold on to a youthful self. There's also the danger of looking "old", or being "dowdy" because women are expected to be as charming and youthful as they may appropriately be.

*sigh*

So... yeah.

My birthday is coming, and I need a haircut.

End rant.

Carry on.