Repunzel, let down thy hair!

Nov. 17, 2010   Leave a Comment  

Ok, not quite. But for those who’ve known me and my work for a while- I have had pixie hairs forever.
When I shot Tipper Gore I had cutehairs.

Don’t get me wrong- I loooove my short hair. Well, at least I did. As with anything in this life, its novelty wore off. I found that I only had short hair because I was lazy. So October of 2009 I went REALLY short- I was tired of maintaining my short hair. Can you believe that?
Super Pixie Hairs

(Damn, that’s a sharp haircut! I do kinda miss the short hair… LOL I’m nostalgic- leave me alone!)

So, why would I grow out my hairs when I’m one of 20% of the population who can ‘get away’ with short hair (I love that- Get Away with it, as though it’s 1920…)? I wanted to look like a girl, a woman, and not a boy.

Look- I get it. I’m tall, skinny, and have small boobs. Short hair is an automatic lesbian statement in today’s society (and the ladies LOVE me!), and while it’s fun to pretend, it strips away a bit of your sense of femininity… which is precisely what I was going for post-breakup-2005.

But now? Now I want to be curvy, sassy, girly and look like a good-for-nothin’-woman. I’ve gained weight and muscle back to my ‘dancer’ weight of 1997, which is 25 pounds over ‘model weight’ believe it or not… (let’s discuss that later), have a few more curves and hair I can not only play with, but gets stuck in my mouth, under the straps of my bags, my eyeballs, etc.
Kevin Foong, photographer, 45 stories up mid-town.
PhotoBooth Fun at Fotoweek DC2010

So, It’s growing. And let me say- It’s 1998 everytime I look in the mirror. What a trip! LOL It really does feel like forever since I had long hair, it’s always somewhat fluctuated… it’s amazing the transformative properties and possibilities we have as humans… I suppose this is the higher meaning, the moral of this story. Just call me Aesop.

Let’s take a fun trip down memory lane!

The OG hair: This is taken circa 2000. I was a wee lassy.
Nineteen-year-old model-Carly Hippie Hair

I love bangs. Almost all my hairstyles have had them. I like hiding behind my hair. It’s true. This was pre-uber-short-chop. I had tricked myself into believing I was going to grow it out again, but for some reason didn’t like it… so off with her head, essentially.
I <3 Bangs

Who can forget the “who hair” phase… which progressed into the David Bowie phase (as were most of my “shit I need a haircut” days…)
Who Hair (4 a.m. wake-ups suck)

David Bowie Hair (If I had a dollar everytime...)

Dear SiVad, you were loved and are missed. RIP 2010. I wore this hairstyle to Soup or Salad (my peoples in the south can I get a heyyyyyyyyy). . . and elicited a LOT of response…
R.I.P.-photographer Sivad, God's messenger and creator of FishHair.

well. that was fun, but now I’m bored. I’m off kids. Stay Tuned.
CeO
(and always remember: I’m a Magical Unicorn. It’s true.)
I'm a Magical Unicorn. Last of my kind.

Everyday should be St. Patty's Day

April 12, 2010   Leave a Comment  

Ok, so stop the presses. I have finished my St. Patty’s Day editing and now present a slideshow of the best St. Patty’s Day Parade on the planet: NYC. It was a glorious day after a shuffle between Winter and Spring in the ultimate face-off, and this day Spring won out.

I really do wish that every day were St. Patty’s Day–not necessarily the amateur-drinking-paradise that a city, especially one like NYC with ample mass transit, becomes. But the spirit of the Irish lives for too short a time throughout the year.

I haven’t been to Ireland, in fact, none of my living ancestors have a brogue, but for those of us connected to the Isles by heart, the Irish Spirit is a glorious, healing experience. This peaks its head out for 24 hours on March 17 each year, but should be present 24/7/365.

Alright, then tell your readers what the hell this wonderful ideal is already!

What I mean to identify to you, I suppose, is the spirit of community, growth (which is why it occurs in Spring, to associate with new beginnings), and brotherhood. Everyone smiles, an un-ignorable attribute of an Irishman, regardless of it’s birth in the alcohol on this specific holiday, and in that smile is an acceptance for the brotherhood of humanity. I can either make your life easier, or harder–and that result falls tenfold into my life.

As an Irish(wo)man, and even today as I pen this post, I will smile through it all. I will put my best foot forward. I will learn from my past and present my future with enrichment in each enigma that passes my path like a black cat to the superstitious. I will adopt that cat, feed it the best meats and love it until it dies and returns to the earth. As a Paddy, I realize the depth of the possibility of suffering, as well as the height of the possibility of prosper.

It certainly isn’t anything new (nothing is), and isn’t limited to us GreenBacks, but when you see a redhead smile, don’t assume all is well. We just assume it one day will be. It’s simply just for the practice, and to see you smile.