Bangs That Are Too Short Look Awful

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There it was, I had made a mess of my bangs again. I couldn’t even manage to do that.

They had cowlicks in them.
They weren’t straight.
They were too thick.

But above all, they were much too short.
Like my skirt.

I was forty-five years old, I should have been wearing more classic clothes. Suits, blouses, little Hermès scarves. But I always hoped that my sexy skirts would help me find the man of my dreams more easily.
Although at forty-five years old, with wrinkles round my eyes, I was not very likely to find him. And even less likely to seduce him.

Especially with that too-short bangs.

I looked at myself in the mirror, with my scissors in my hand and my too-short bangs.
I am useless; every time my hairdresser tells me that I can come in between appointments so he can give it a quick tidy-up.
But I never dare. I am too timid; I don’t have the confidence. I’m always frightened of being a nuisance.

Maybe if I cut it a bit shorter, it would be better.
I do just that.
It’s even worse.

Bangs that are too short look really awful.

And it will take a long time to grow again.
I’m not going to get promoted looking like this. Managers always look beautiful and dress well. They don’t have a skirt and bangs that are both too short.

Last time, my work colleagues and I had made fun of “big fat Solange”, who as well as being a size 46, had messed up her perm. She looked like Polnareff.

Tomorrow they are all bound to be making fun of my bangs, in the coffee break.

“Have you seen Myriam’s bangs?”
“Yes, what a mess!”
“And it’s not as if her clothes are so wonderful that you don’t notice the hair…”
“And has she put a bit of weight on?”
“Do you think so?? Or maybe she’s pregnant!!”
“No, that’s IMPOSSIBLE, apparently she hasn’t had sex with anyone for five years!”
“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!”

They will shut up when I come into the staff room. There will be an awkward silence, full of pity.

I was still looking at myself in the mirror, with my scissors in my hand. I was thinking that I could not stand the mockery and humiliation any longer.
No, it was impossible.

I gripped my scissors firmly between my thumb and my index finger.
I gouged out my eyes.
Now they wouldn’t be able to mock me.

It’s very rude to make fun of a blind person.

Translated by Wendy Cross


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