I finally convinced Paige to let me cut her hair. I was totally confident, spurred on by
that Regina Spektor song, and also by Terry Devlin, my grandpa.
"Do you know what the difference between a good haircut and a bad haircut is?"
"No."
"Three weeks! (laughs)"
 |
Paige prepares. |
AND...
 |
(she was actually way happier when she saw it) |
 |
(babe) |
After trying to make the sides even and ending up cutting it WAY shorter then intended, I decided to go for asymmetry. WAY easier. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, but it was a bit touch and go for a minute there.
Anyway, anyone who wants me to cut their hair, step right up. I've got a lot of karma to make up on from the amount of times Steven's cut mine.