Late Quarter Life Crisis…Pt. 2.
I’ve also decided that I believe that “growing up” causes people to lose track of who they truly are. Something that I never, in a million years, thought would happen to me, nor did I want it to happen. Somehow I thought I was immune, but I’m not. Sure, some “grown up” jobs mean dressing sharp and professional, not flaunting tattoos and piercings, and maintaining a professional appearance. Most places have pretty strict dress codes, including policies regarding hair and jewelry. But…that does not mean you can’t be you.
I’m a pretty prime example. I have 5+ tattoos, gauged ears, and a septum piercing. And I work at a bank for the love of God. Just keep it modest, inoffensive, and easily hidden. Some of my smaller tattoos, like my foot and inside of my arms, are visible on a regular basis to customers and co-workers alike. But, I wear A LOT of jackets and longsleeves—because it’s always cold here, and because I have larger tattoos on my upper arms/shoulders. I simply flip my nose ring up while I’m at work. (However, I spend so much time here that I feel like I never see it anymore, and that makes me sad.)
I recently had a spell of “OMG I CAN’T BE MEEEEE!!!” syndrome. Spawned by endless YouTube videos of the fashion/style/hair nature.
When I was younger, I secretly wanted to look like one of the Japanese girls right out of the Harajuku District. Funky hair and clothes, accessories galore, etc etc. At least that’s how they looked when I was in middle/high school. I’m sure that has changed because fashion is an ever-changing world and Harajuku is no exception and it might change faster than usual trends.
In high school I was basically a tomboy who hung out with all the skater boys and whatnot. I couldn’t skate for 2 secs if asked, nor did I have any desire to. I was one of the few girls in my school with multiple piercings that weren’t just ears or belly button. And I think the only one with gauges…at least that I was aware of. (I also grew up in a small rural Midwestern town). But I felt special and unique and great about myself because of, what I would now consider, these minor differences between my peers and I. Shortly after high school, I started dying my hair. Dark brown, strawberry blonde, a gingery color, BRIGHT red. I always tried new hair cuts and styles. It’d be short then long then shoulder length then a funky crop. I had no fear and I did not care what anyone would think.
A couple months ago, I was debating cutting my back into a super short crop/pixie style like I had had previously. And I polled everyone I could think of for their opinion. Why? I have no clue. Generally, I would have ran the idea past my mom and boyfriend and then done whatever I wanted regardless of thoughts/opinions.
I ended up getting a hair cut, something between the long hair I had and the short hair I wanted…because I didn’t want to shock myself. And I LOOOOOVE it! But I still felt something missing. I was trying to return my hair to its natural color becaue I hadn’t seen it in so long. But with my hair half grown out to that color I looked blah, washed out, not good. The only problem was that if I had my way, my hair would be red and platinum/white blonde. But I knew that wasn’t going to fly at work. So instead the majority is dark chestnut brown—which ends up looking pretty red because of my hair’s natural red tints—with red in the underneath of my bangs and around my face. I absolutely love it and feel 20x better than I have in a loooong time.
Granted it’s not as crazy or drastic as I’d like, but it’s better than nothing. Now I just have to get my wardrobe up to speed. That’ll be the hardest part yet!