The Pixie Reign of Terror

Prepare yourself for a tale filled with happiness, sadness, fear and a hair cut that came with a vengeance.


Let me begin this story by saying its not always the best idea to get a hair cut while you’re going through an existential crisis. In case you didn’t know, new and drastic hair cuts solve all problems in life or at least we are lead to believe this lie on TV and in movies.


I knew I wanted a change and to donate my hair to charity. I figured if I was trying to make my life better, maybe I could make someone else’s too. I decided to donate my hair to Pantene Beautiful Lengths. (Donating your hair is a great way to help people out who have lost their hair to cancers and other illnesses. Pantene Beautiful Lengths and Wigs for Kids are two great organizations that give free high quality wigs to women and children in need.)



My initial chop came in the late summer. I got a short and cute bob that was still versatile and bouncy. I thought I would like my new hair cut and that I would feel like a new less existential woman. However, the call of the pixie cut was strong, my friends. So strong, that I could not resist.

I decided to leave my hair the way it was for a few weeks to enjoy styling and curling my hair. The bob looked nice, but there was something was different. My hair was fluffy and huge unless I straightened it. It was weird, but I didn’t think much of it. Little did I know, my hair was giving me a warning. My wavy hair refused to wave no matter what I did, it only fluffed. My hair’s rebellion was unnoticed as I skipped all the way to salon.

At the end of Summer, I took the plunge and got my very first pixie cut. I sat excitedly in my hair stylist’s chair as she assured me that my thick wavy hair would do well with a pixie. As she slowly chopped off my hair, a monster awoke, one that continues to plague me to this day.

My hair began to rebel in the first week. The initial hair cut was cute and stylish, but began to take a half an hour or more and multiple products to force my hair to lay down. Some days my hair was just puffy and stuck out at weird angles. When the beast was tamed my hair was great. When it roared, I walked around with Harry Potter hair.

As my hair began to grow, the monster grew stronger. My hair became Jekyll and Hyde. It would flip the bitch switch so fast I got whip lash. My hair was only pleased if I washed it, blow dried it, covered it in goo, and straightened it.

As weeks turned into months, my hair became thicker and angrier. Every two weeks, people asked me if I’d gotten a hair cut.

“No.” I would reply. “My hair is just growing out from a pixie.”

They would stare at me in wonder, “But it looks completely different than last week.”

“Shhh!” I’d beg. “Don’t say that so loudly.”

When they would continue, my hair slapped them across the face. I tried to explain that it was the monster, but they would just cower and run away. The pixie reign of terror had secured  its place in my life.

You must understand that pixies are a liberating hair cut for women. They are beautiful and amazing, but you must know that thick wavy hair can not always be conquered by a pair of sheers. Know your hair, my friends. Get a pixie, show off your beautiful faces. Just know, that 1 in 10 of us might awaken a monster.


Beautiful pixies.

As my hair grew longer, I began to fight the beast back. I was tired of its stubbornness and anger. I knew my only way to freedom was letting my hair grow wild and free. So, I tamed the beast. I showed it that I could control it with Matrix Beach Clay and bobby pins. No longer did the beast cause daily Harry Potter hair.

As I stand today, I am nearly back to a bob just six months later. My hair still requires a shampooing, blow dry, and straightening most days, but sometimes it is calm. They only way my hair rebels is its refusal to curl or wave even with proper products. It still continues to fluff. For me, the pixie reign of terror is nearly over.

Use my cautionary tale wisely. At the first sign of fluff, beware of the beast.


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