I know that I’m not alone in having to deal with the fallout of my Covid cut.
Brace yourself: the mother of all rogue hairstyles…
Yes, I know – we all remember this stage of quarantine. Way back in March, around three weeks in when we already thought we’d been through the most of it. When we thought we were running out of things to do.
So instead of joining the million people on social media for Chloe Ting’s workout cult just yet, we decided to work with our existing real estate: hair.
Having had a little bit too much time on our hands already, this was a great time to reinvent ourselves – the COVID cut was the cheapest and easiest way of changing our appearances.
It was claustrophobic living six feet from our loved ones for long periods of time during the coronavirus lockdown, cut us some slack if we wanted to read a stupid article, and mess up our hair?
At least it was something different to look at
Let’s just ignore the fact that my hair – such is its’ volume – stuck straight up without the weight to work against gravity.
It was, as my dad put it, less a fringe, more of a centre piece.
I’ll take it. For legal reasons (my dignity) I won’t subject anyone to these pictures. It’s already been a long six months.
Save lives: die your hair (or bleach it). We already know that bad news doesn’t mix well with common sense…
This happens a week after the adrenaline we got from cutting our fringe has worn off. After all, the chaps shaved their heads, and we were left with the consequences of our actions.
Naturally, we made things worse
My hair went blue for a few weeks – I looked like a navy zebra, and even though my sister greatly relished in this fashion disaster, it was not a look that stood the test of time.
All COVID cuts resemble something out of a horror movie – or the White House.
But in times of crisis, we need a little fun – following the guidelines but making room for rogue personal activities.
Soon, my hair was greeny-grey and brittle. The version of myself pre-quarantine would have probably had a crisis about this latest disaster, but if there’s one thing COVID 19 has strengthened us with, it’s a new threshold for trauma.
Disaster isn’t a thing unless it affects lots of people and public health, now. Difficult times are global, not just personal.
It didn’t even occur to me to be embarrassed. In fact, frankly, I quite liked feeling rogue for a change!
We all need to learn to laugh at our mistakes
Another fact of lockdown was the increasingly rogue fashion choices we made when picking outfits for going to the supermarket.
We became accustomed to seeing designer hats and Gucci belts in the Tesco metro and didn’t bat an eye at clutches being used rather than totes!
Outfits that we normally wouldn’t dare wear to London fashion week became the norm. It was kind of beautiful, we could take risks without judgment.
Eventually, however, that phase was succeeded by another, equally valid stage of lockdown fashion disasters…
Like the stages of grief, we reached the point where we couldn’t pretend anymore. Lockdown was now just about ease and leisure. We went straight back to trackies and sliders and – in fact – even further the wrong way.
I often went out in public without a bra and having not brushed my hair in a week – often with PJs inside out and backward, like an Alanis Morrisette song.
There will never be a shameless time like this again – hopefully!
Finally, pandemic times have raised one more pop-culture category for fashion disasters that we never knew we would have to face: mask aesthetic.
I started shamelessly purchasing different colored masks for different socially distanced occasions. And boy, was it fun.
The new question is not business casual or whether to wear masks, but what color to go with…
So, forget that that schools are closed and many days at home. Cut off the zoom calls and think about this:
Do you match the mask with your tie or the blazer? Do you go all black for a funeral, and finally, is the golden rule still no white masks at a wedding?
I for one am grateful for the growth that I have enjoyed from experiencing all these fashion disasters.
It has taken a global pandemic, but I’ve finally learned to laugh and myself, and mean it.