So, um, I got bangs. 

I’d been considering the Big Chop for the past two weeks, ever since I was flipping through Glamour and landed upon the story “Why You Should Try Bangs.” And I was like, who me? And it was like, yes, everyone looks good in bangs, even plain-Jane supermodels Heidi Klum and Kate Moss. And I totally fell for it and started holding the ends of my hair at my forehead and asking everyone around me: Should I get bangs? Some people were like “Do it!” and others were like “NOOOOO!” and in the end, I decided against them. 

But then. 

There at the salon, my stylist was finishing my trim and for some unknown reason, I blurted, “Should I get bangs?” Advice for all: If you’re unsure about bangs, feel free to ask the advice of friends and family but don’t ask the advice of the woman holding the pair of shears. Before we could analyze the pros and cons and delve deep into how this would affect me psychologically, SNIP! SNIP! SNIP!

I had bangs.

The stylist seemed to love the cut and even made me step outside to take a picture. (She says it’s for her portfolio, but maybe it was to tell all her friends later that night, “Look what I did to this poor girl!”)   

I myself didn’t love them, but didn’t hate them. My initial thought was that I looked punk rock. We’re so playing Rock Band tonight, I decided.           

Then I headed home to face my family and Matt.

I walked in and everyone bursted into laughter.

Everyone: You look so……… CHINESE!   

Me: (I respect my peoples very much, but I knew this wasn’t a compliment.) Aww, really?

Matt: Hello dragon lady. Say “Me love you long time.” 

Me: Heck no.

I bolted to the nearest mirror. 

Sister: Bye Ling Ling! 

So now I have bangs. They’re OK. I’m sure maintenance will suck, but I needed a change. And maybe now people will treat me like her and bring juicy steaks to my desk. Riiight.