The many emotional stages of getting a micro fringe

The many emotional stages of getting a micro fringe

When tressed = stressed.

Don’t let the name fool you. Micro fringes, aka ‘baby bangs’, might occupy a teeny tiny space on your forehead, but they are a BIG style statement – and celebrities are going wild for them. From Emma Roberts’ super sharp cut at the Critics’ Choice Awards to the soft and choppy look debuted by Emma Watson on Instagram, micro fringes are appearing everywhere.

And that includes, as of very recently, my head. Which is a huge deal as I’ve had serious fringe fear ever since a 'quick trim’ seven years ago left me looking like I’d had a run-in with a lawnmower. But here I am, bravely jumping on the baby bangs bandwagon – and let me tell you, it’s not for the faint-hearted. Here's the emotional journey I've been through...

1. The confidence

 

Here’s a pictorial representation of me walking into the salon the day I had baby bangs cut into my super-long hair. Damn right it was time to shake things up! I’m a risk taker! Let’s get that tiny thing on my face!

 

2. The uncertainty

 

But then I was left in the waiting area for a few minutes and all I could do was obsessively stare at everyone’s foreheads as my initial confidence waned with every fringe-free haircut I saw.

 

3. The negotiation

 

"I think I want a micro fringe," I said to my hairdresser, who very quietly sighed and then left to get a small stool to sit on because she knew this consultation was going to take a while.

 

4. The renewed vigour

 

But after showing my stylist approximately 450 inspo pictures, I was confident she and I were on the same page and I was hella excited for the new look which would also definitely fix my entire life somehow. 

 

5. The out-of-body experience

 

It was time to begin. She made the first cut, and as a 15-inch lock of hair fell into my lap, my soul straight-up left my body.

 

6. The serene calm

 

But by the time she’d made it halfway across my forehead, I’d made peace with the situation. It was out of my hands. I felt… transcendental.

 

7. The bargaining

 

And anyway, it’s just hair, right? It’ll grow back. NO BIGGIE.

 

8. The big reveal

 

My exact expression, tbh.

 

9. The crushing reality

 

As I was still processing how I felt about this new look – which the stylist literally described as "fun, right?" – it occurred to me that my hair was on the floor and it’s at that moment I truly realised that no, I can’t just stick it back on somehow. 

 

10. The quiet reflection

 

So in true British fashion, I smiled, nodded way too much, then went straight home to have an existential crisis in front of a mirror. Which was weird, because I didn’t recognise the person in the mirror.

 

11. The changing perception

 

Did I love it? Did I hate it? I honestly couldn’t tell. It was like I needed to learn to look at my own face differently.

 

12. The joy

 

And then, in the same way that parents somehow muster unconditional love for their disgusting children, I felt a sudden and overwhelming rush of adoration for my new fringe. Like, was it possible to actually be in love with my own hair?

 

13. The unconditional love

 

Even in the morning when I get up and it looks like I’ve stuck my fingers in a plug socket, I still love it, cos it’s nothing a spritz of water and a quick blast with a hairdryer won’t solve. Plus, I don’t need to bother washing all of my hair now! I can just wash my fringe in the sink and let the rest of it fester in a ponytail forever and I still look great!

 

14. The haters

 

Baby bangs are pretty divisive, so it’s fairly obvious which of my friends genuinely like them and which are just pretending to (Leslie, I know your thumbs-up emojis are lies). But I honestly don’t care, because I know I look fire.

 

15. The endless surprise

 

But I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to catching glimpses of my reflection. New hair, who dis?

@Rachel_England