Last year fringing was everywhere. Literally. I can’t name one person (apart from myself but I haven’t washed my hair in 4 days so I’m too gross to count as a person) that didn’t own rather a handbag, t-shirt or cowboy boots embellished with that shredded tissue paper-esque design otherwise known as a trend. Unfortunately for me, I misread the memo. When I heard fringing was going to be big, well, I had a fringe cut.
In autobiographies or (if you’re not famous enough to have needed an autobiography) photo albums, people often split their lives into the following key moments: graduating with a useless degree, getting first job completely unrelated to said degree, buying property, marrying, having two children, divorcing, remarrying, repeating a few times before retiring to Switzerland to avoid tax. No one, however, ever mentions the commitment involved with having a fringe. Until now. Because sadly it isn’t all style goals and looking like Zooey Deschanel.
Problem 1: I have curly hair. Perhaps this was my own fault, you see all those Women’s Health articles like ‘Who even are you if you don’t know your hair/skin/body type?’ and I always ignore them because I question my existence enough without Women’s Health adding to the mix, however knowing your hairtype is probs v important before making a decision like this. I have to straighten Jess jnr. (as the block fringe in known) every morning else I look like the dog from Annie. For someone with commitment issues, it’s a big commitment. Continue reading