Talk Me Out of It
By Natalie DeYoung on January 27, 2014
This is what the cut looked like pre-styling, so basically, all the time.
I had to include this photo. It's my favorite.
My sophomore photo was so terrible that there is no photographic evidence of it outside of my yearbook, which is in storage in the attic. Instead, I am including this placeholder photo of what my hair looked like at the time.
Imagine this in a lovely dirt-brown shade complemented by a corpse-like complexion, and you'll be pretty close.
See, here! Here! My hair is okay. Sure I'm growing out a color job, but it looks fine. Why couldn't I leave well enough alone? Sigh. Not long after this photo was taken...
Junior prom, circa 2000. My date was such a nice guy he didn't even point out that a mane of tight barrel curls was on its way out. Also, note the repeat of a trapezoidal shape.
After this beauty disaster, I grew out my hair and it didn't change much for ten years.
If only I could bottle and sell whatever made my hair look this good that day.
That was it. For ten years. Until I got married, got full-time work, and finally had enough money to be "creative" with my hair. "Creative" is code for doing shit to it that should not be done to hair when you have chubby cheeks and a Roman nose.
Thankfully though, I think this slideshow has served its purpose. The existence of zero photos of me when my hair looked bad last year proves that I should leave well enough alone.
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