High school was a difficult time in my life. Mostly because of the stupid battles that I had with my parents every! single! morning! before I'd leave for school. One of the biggest battles that I'd have with them every!single!morning involved my bangs. Specifically how tall they were.
To my parents, everything was a sin and High Bangs was no exception. And yet, every morning I'd bust out the curling iron, the comb (for ratting), the hairspray and most importantly, the blow dryer (You know, to blow the hairspray dry in order to keep the bangs locked into place all day long.)
I'd spend a great deal of time trying to get The Bangs to go perfectly. And getting the bangs to go perfectly involved the proper ratio of height on the top and perfect curl on the bottom. There was nothing more devastating to my 15 year old ass then to have spent (sometimes) hours getting the Perfect Bangs only to have my dad catch me on the way out.
Oh, the drama that would ensue. Drama that involved the measuring of the bangs with rulers (AM NOT LYING) and the pushing down of the bangs by my dad (think: chest compressions during CPR. Only, on my bangs.) And also praying, rebuking and quite possibly, crying.
Good Lord. The Crying.
I never understood why The Bangs were just a big damn deal to my parents, because, seriously. THEY WERE JUST BANGS. I wasn't having sex, or doing drugs, or ditching school. I was teasing my bangs. And yet, every morning I'd get a spanking or a rebuking before leaving for school because of those damn bangs.
Last night as I was organizing some pictures, I found my junior year high school ID card. Suddenly, it all became very clear to me. My parents anger towards The Bangs probably had absolutely nothing to do with Jesus disapproving of them.
And everything to do with not wanting their daughter to go out into the world looking like a cracked out cockatoo.
**Updated**









Girl, oh dear, the memories that brought back. With me it was backcombing (just google Robert Smith of The Cure - that was what I aspired to!)
Am I alone in thinking you've got a bit of Amy Winehouse going on there?