My godmother was my style idol when I was kid. She was a hip single California gal when I was just starting to understand that that was the best style anyone could ever be. And she had this fabulous blonde bob.
I remember once going into the city to meet her for lunch. I was probably nine, wearing a polo and a twirly denim skirt, and Mom let me carry my little mint green purse with polka dots. (Man. I loved that purse!) Best of all: I had just gotten my hair cut into a bob. I was so excited to show off my outfit and my hair. Like any good godmother, she made a suitable fuss over me. I was on top of the world.
I have a tumultuous relationship with haircuts since then. In Junior high, I naturally wanted long curly looks like Jo in Little Women, because if my hair was like hers, maybe I'd be like her. I'd braid my hair at night, unravel it in the morning, and it'd be stick straight by lunchtime. I had a great hairdresser in high school and college, and the California sun gave me what I really wanted: killer highlights. But when I wanted a chic cut for my new life in the city, she made me into a soccer mom. And I've never been able to find a new hairdresser worth building a relationship with. And all these problems would be solved if only my hair was a little more curly, or a little blonder, or, let's face it, if I worked on it for more than three seconds every morning.
But, guys: I have a secret to tell you: as in most things, my fabulous godmother was right. A bob. It's chic. It's flattering. It's feminine. It can be styled curly or straight. You don't need any fancy mousse to give it lift: just a flick of your fingers while drying. And ohmygoodness it's so liberating! I'm never going back.
(Illustration by Garance Dore)