I decided about a year ago that I wanted to donate my hair. It was already long (ha! I've had long hair my entire life!) so whenever I went to the salon I just had a trim. I did some research and it didn't take long to figure out that I do not meet the criteria for Locks of Love. I have several strikes against me (the fact that my hair has been highlighted in the past was the biggest one)(also, you're supposed to donate 10-12 inches and that was a hard pill to swallow).
So, I googled "donate hair" or somesuch and found out that I don't meet Pantene's Beautiful Length's criteria either. What the poo? Doesn't anyone want long hair anymore? Why is everyone so picky?
Significantly down the Google list (and after playing around with my search terms), I finally found it: an organization that isn't as fussy: Children with Hairloss. Turns out, they're perfect for me. They're based out of Michigan, which means it's about as local of an organization as I'm going to find. They only require 8 inches of hair, and it's okay if it's gray or highlighted.
So . . . I did it!
Please pardon the poor pictures.The lighting was very harsh and I wasn't wearing any makeup. But you can still figure out what is going on. The first and last pictures look especially awful to me . . . she was having trouble with my camera phone so I had to hold my smile for a really long time, and it had started to sag by the time she actually snapped the picture.
We had to split my hair into two ponytails to cut it off because I have so much hair. It's hard to comprehend how much hair I had (and still have). It's actually pretty fine, not coarse like you would think by looking at it. It's dark and wavy, so everyone assumes that it's thick, but actually: I just have an awful lot of it.
Gasp! It's off!
The first picture we took I had my arms by my
side and OOPS! It looked like boob tassles.
We had a good laugh about that!
I ended up with 10 inches to send to Children with Hairloss, and my hairdresser had to take about four more inches off on top of that (to style it). I added blonde highlights also . . . you really don't see them at all in these horrible pictures but they turned out pretty nice. I do think my new style looks cute, and I will get used to it eventually (by the time it grows back, I hope), but it's definitely dramatic.
I did pretty good, if I do say so myself. I didn't cry! I thought I might because I knew it would be a huge shock, but I held myself together amazingly well. I was in the salon for FOUR HOURS because we had to re-do the highlights (my hair has been dyed enough that the color doesn't go on evenly).
And now? Well, I must say: there is a learning curve with teaching myself how to style my own hair. I feel like a gigantic moron right now; I don't know how to hold the brush and the blow dryer at the same time, and after 20 minutes still end up with funny kinks.
My morale is so-so. I'm glad I did it--this was a Good Thing--but it's just so shocking to be without my hair. I feel very sympathetic toward those whiney bee-otches on America's Next Top Model (sobbing hysterically: "I just (hiccup) don't (sniff, sniff) feel like meeeee!"). I'm not crying about it, but I don't feel like myself, and that's hard.
The worst part is when I'm washing my hair . . . I feel so naked! And, since the haircut was on Saturday, I've only had two showers since then and it hasn't been long enough to reprogram myself how much shampoo to squeeze into my hand.