My so called life

“How do you want it?” he asked.

I smirked, frowned and stared back at him in the mirror. It was a straightforward question ... for a barber.

A few weeks ago I went to my second haircut at the lovely no-frills Barberos in Civic. The guys there were friendly, warm and skilled with their hands. I never really look at my hair in the mirror, and throughout most days will only touch with my hair if I'm stressed. So I will typically just like it short and low-maintenance.

But every time this question is asked, a vision flashes through my imagination of the different versions of me, fashionable, bold, bald. And every time I think about how I would look to the world around me, and whether I could maintain and sustain that look until my hair grows out again. I usually end up with my usual. Most of the time I just cared if I didn’t need to keep it maintained too much.

It’s a fascinating thing, how hair is important to person’s perception of themselves, a key part of their presentation to the world. A friend once told me that he was afraid of moving cities, despite a great job offer, because he was afraid that he wouldn’t find a hairdresser as good as the one he had gone to for 5 years.

My thoughts turned to how important hair was to one of my favourite, and most influential teen shows. No, it was not Felicity cutting her tresses in season 2, but her predecessor. In the pilot episode of My So Called Life, Angela Chase dyed her hair red to the astonishment of her mother, Patty. No sorry, it wasn't red, it was Crimson Glow. It represented a dramatic change for Angela, as she blossomed into being a teenager, the crimson a representation of the passion and energy within her.

I rewatched the pilot later that week, and it was as gorgeous and heartfelt as ever. I did not watch the show when it was first broadcast in 1994, because I had never heard of it until the references to it in the now defunct TelevisionWithOutPity recap website. In any case, I was too young, and it did not show on free to air TV in Australia. I discovered the show in university, after Buffy ended and I needed something to assuage my teenage angst fix.

I remember watching the show alone on my computer, quietly absorbed by the intimacy and earnestness of the characters, and the amazingly cinematic treatment of teenage life. It was one of the first shows I binge-watched during that first year of uni, and none of my friends were very interested. While it did not speak directly to me since I was no longer a teenager, I still loved it. I’ve always been an outsider and late to the party, and I was glad to have discovered the show when I did.

A few days after my haircut, I revisited the pilot episode. It was almost as I remembered, richly evocative, and deeply compassionate. So specific were the characterisation of Angela and her friends that while I now felt slightly distanced by their teenage angst, they were still richly drawn human beings, on the verge of adulthood. But what struck me, or rather what I had forgot about the show, was how richly drawn the adults were, even if seen only through Angela’s eyes. I had forgotten that Patty had also changed her hair, and it was striking to see her long flowing hair in the pilot episode. That both mother and daughter were going through changes meant that the show was not just focused on teenagers, and perhaps there were new shades waiting for fans re-watching the show as adults. I decided then to watch the whole series again, and reflect on each episode on this blog. Perhaps there was something that Angela could show me about my own so called life.

Back at the barber, I had thrown caution to the wind, and asked for a 2 instead of a 3, and a straight part instead of a blended part. As he massaged my scalp, and worked his art on my salt-and-pepper hair, I surveyed the items I could see in the mirror. Hipster art on the wall and my boyfriend waiting on the seat. And there, staring back, was the same-but-new look for a same-but-maybe-new me.