Cutting hair at home: not without wine

Wannabe hairdresser
Two glasses of wine and a haircut

© njekaterina / Getty Images

Our author loves her pony. A lot. Separate from it? Only if it has become too long again. An experience report with wine and wish-I-had-not-done-it.

I have a pony. It already existed pre-Corona. In the meantime we have been through a lot together. Because even if I am blessed with the slowest hair growth in the world – that has never paid off as much as it does at the moment – I cannot avoid regular trimming either. Then let's go.

I need courage to cut my hair. Much courage

I usually only drink alcohol with someone. I strictly forbade myself to sit on the sofa alone with a glass of wine – the potential for addiction is simply too high. And I haven't used the classic "drink courage" up to now either. As I said – until now. Because "in Corona times", as we like to say with a twist of the eyes, life with a pony is similar to that with an unsympathetic roommate: Nice that he is there and contributes to the rent. But as soon as it hangs around my eyes too often, my fuse quickly becomes very short. That goes in no time at all.

Hairdresser visit canceled

Now, due to the pandemic, the hairdressers are sometimes open, sometimes closed. And hopping into my regular hairdresser for a moment, so that she can flit through the fringes with her magic scissors, is unfortunately not possible either. Haircuts are only available when the whole head is wet. And it's really not worth it for my three highlights on my face. So you have to find a remedy yourself. The positive news: Hairdressing scissors are not expensive at all. And that's it with the beginner's luck.

Rookie mistake

In the summer I cut my bangs wet. What I didn't think about: When wet, hair is always a tiny bit longer than when it is dry. It really doesn't matter – if it hadn't been for the pony. It took three months for the gap between the ends of the hair and the eyebrows to finally close. Three. Months. That was the first trick. And the second follows immediately.

I hardly see anything anymore

The summer trauma has now been overcome, in December the whole mane had to believe in it and my pony also got a neat cut from the hairdresser. It's almost March now. And the realization runs down my spine like a cold shiver: I hardly see anything anymore. Means: The hairdressing scissors get their big entrance.

Are we not in an exceptional situation?

But not without the active support of my chilled friend from the pretty bottle: the white wine. You read that right. For a halfway handsome hairdresser, we can quickly throw our own principles overboard. But hey – aren't we in an exceptional situation? After all, alcohol is known to make things a lot easier. Then why not cut your hair too?

Next time with a thrill

So I made myself really nice last Sunday. I cooked something nice, a glass of wine on the side, and because I was in the swing of things, I got into my hair with the scissors. And what can I say: Could have been worse! I also confirm again soberly. I'm not sure if the end result was due to the alcohol, or if it was because I just snipped more carefully this time. But I can see my fellow human beings again – and I also find the sight of myself tolerable. Next time I'll try again sober. Simply because I like the thrill so much.