Everyone notes the passage of time in their own way. Maybe you define eras by the apartment or city you lived in or the person you were dating. For me, it’s always been my hair. Since going full rainbow in the fall of 2003, I can tell you what I was doing, where I was working, and who I was hanging out with based on my hairstyle at the time. As a result, I’m no stranger to a personal crisis manifesting itself in the form of a drastic, spur-of-the-moment hair change.

I ditched my professionally dyed rainbow hair for a CVS-bought, black-from-a-box color after ending my first real relationship. I turned my platinum hair copper (aka “adult orange”) when I thought I would actually give “adult” dressing a try (both were a miserable fail).

COVID-19 feels like a breakup with everything all at once; for some reason, all of today’s uncertainty isn’t making me reach for the scissors…

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