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L-A: The debate over whether or not to cut or grow bangs isn’t a new one. Ladies be debating this for generations. It’s a decision that’s fraught with peril and regret. We’ve all been there. Even Kate Middleton went there. But unlike many of you, my decision has never been about whether I should have them, it’s whether I shouldn’t. And it’s causing a minor existential crisis. Who am I if I’m not a person with bangs?

To say I’ve had bangs for life is not hyperbole. There is maybe a cumulative period of three years where I didn’t have them. The first being during the period when I didn’t have much hair because I was a newborn and the second being grade five, when I grew them out and it looked horrible. I’m not kidding. I’m not even going to share a photo because I probably burned them when I was in high school Just look at my commitment to the fringe.

A Brief History of L-A’s Bangs

Baby L-A rocking both the bangs and the late 70s style.

 

1984 is all about the blunt bangs and curls from sponge rollers you sleep in. 

 

High school L-A is a mid-90s cliché and features a full bob and serious bangs. Also, a nice reliant automobile.

So you see, literally bangs for life.

But now I’m reconsidering the bang situation. Maybe it’s the new mom cliché that I just don’t wash them or have the time to style them (there was a very long period where he wasn’t into napping). Maybe it’s the dreaded hard water making my bangs a regular mess (soon to be solved with my brand new water softener). Or maybe it’s time for a change after, well, over 35 years of bangs defining every hair cut I’ve ever had.

Whatever it is, it started with a longer fringe.

I take angry selfies, but i was really into my hair that day.

The hesitation over whether or not to fringe isn’t just a ridiculous Cher Horowitz-style existential crisis, it’s my feelings about my forehead and my hair line. Okay, so maybe it’s a little ridiculous to dwell about a forehead, but I have no-bang shell shock from the fifth grade when I would pull my no-bangs hair back severely in a ponytail or puffy headband or both (what up 1989) to reveal a big forehead and what feels like a receding hairline/widow’s peak. Hey, we’ve all got our weird body issues, mine just happens to be my forehead and the only thing you can do about it is cover it with bags or wear a hat. And the latter isn’t terribly practical unless you’re royalty and hat wearing is part of the job description.

And now, now we’re almost bang free.

Hair feels like it might be on fleek. If I knew how to use the words "on fleek".

Hair feels like it might be on fleek. If I knew how to use the words “on fleek”.

 

Will it last? Only time and my existential crisis will tell. But I think I’m learning to love (or at least not hate) my forehead. Maybe I can live a bang-free life.

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Fashionable People, Questionable Things.