Though I do love my wig like the cuddly little pet it is, I've never been 100% comfortable with what it does on its own. It loves to hang down in my face, and no amount of bobby pin conditioning or tucking it behind my ears has taught it to stay to the side. So I'm left to wear it like I did in the 3rd grade (minus the giant bow) or go get bangs.
Talk about commitment.
Giving the wig bangs is like getting a tattoo; once it's done, it's DONE. And on a $400 wig, one must be very sure of their decision and confident in the person holding the scissors. I know you didn't finish that last sentence because you couldn't get past the price tag. Me neither. Especially when my insurance doesn't cover it (If you participated in that little crowd sourcing fundraiser a while back, know that a few hairs on that wig have your name on them).
I was looking forward to the big move for many good reasons, and one of them happened to be getting bangs cut by someone who does this sort of thing for a living AND knows me. And the knowing me part was important, as it wouldn't leave me having to explain my situation to a perfect stranger before they altered my look. No explanation necessary is a nice relief for someone who routinely has to explain herself to strangers.
I am thrilled with the outcome, even if I did have a minor little bump in the road involving some homemade gluten-free chicken nuggets, the oven and synthetic hair that's not partial to minor doses of heat. One hour and a very tiny pair of scissors later and I have picked my devastated self up off the floor and readjusted my wig. Apparently when they said to avoid hair dryers and flat irons, they failed to mention baking as well.
Dreamed up by Unknown at 9:14 AM