The Story Behind Wonder Woman's Undercut

Just call me Lil Miss Spontaneous.

A lot of people have been asking me what in the devil's name ever possessed me to shave so much of my hair off (see here). So I figured I'd blog about it.

If there is one woman that I know (though sadly not personally) that I would absolutely kill all of the men in the world to be with, it would be Jess Tran of Jess Loves Fred.

I don't mean to alarm you, but c'mon. Girls are entitled to have girl crushes. Granted, I just said I'd commit genocide for the stunningly gorgeous woman mentioned above, but whatever.

Jess is actually the first blogger that I actually followed online. Ever. I had her bookmarked. I felt depressed whenever she went on a hiatus. And KissKiss (my camera) and I talked about her a lot.

When she got her undercut, I saved a picture right away, kept it on my phone and asked everyone I knew whether I would be able to get away with it myself.

Taken from Jess Loves Fred

Half of them said yes, half of them looked at me like I was a nutcase. Since the first half were all women, I figured they just wanted me to look stupid, so that they could have all of the men to themselves. (Riiiiight. Coz single moms totally have to beat guys away with a stick... not!)

Well, one day, I got eyelash extensions. And one other day, those eyelash extensions started to hurt. (More about that here.) And when I went back to get my eyelashes fixed, the lady at Lash Studio told me to come back in two hours. TWO HOURS. I was standing there with an excruciatingly painful eye - looking creepingly similar to Forest Whitaker, I might add (but much smaller and much more Asian) - and she tells me to come back in TWO HOURS?!??

Pissed off and angry, I head to my secret haven aka Starbucks to cool down. Of course, as I'm walking over there, it starts to rain. And, of course, when I get there, it's packed and there's no place for me to sit.

Frustrated and angry, and feeling more and more like Forest Whitaker on steroids and PMS, I see Bruno's Barbers at the end of Starbucks.

Fifteen minutes later - after threatening the guy at the barber shop to shave it off or I'll turn into The Hulk - I emerge into the sun (of course, the rain stopped!) with a quarter of a shaved head.

And today, I got a red ombre to go with it, too. Boom.

Why red?

Coz, aside from Jess, there are only two other women I would commit genocide for right now:

Rihanna and...

...Delirium of Neil Gaiman's Sandman graphic novels

Please don't judge. :)

If it makes you feel any better, I can part my hair in the middle and still meet your parents and they will never know I have a quarter of a shaved head. It'll be our lil secret. As one of Rihanna's finger tattoos put it: "Shhh..."

The end.