F
resh off the plane back from my study abroad
experience in Paris, and standing in front of the
mirror in my mother’s bathroom, I took a pair of
kitchen scissors and haphazardly cut a fringe, framing
the front of my forehead. The bangs were uneven, a
little too thick on the right side of my forehead, and very
clearly an amateur job — but they immediately made me
feel transformed, like a new woman.
When my mom saw my handiwork later that evening,
her knee jerk response was, “Oh god, Meghann, what
have you done?” My friends had a similar response (I’d
consulted with very few people prior to my decision). In
general, the theme seemed to be one of cautious support
with a wary undertone of, “Are you sure you’re OK?” I
reassured them that I was, in fact, doing well, and that
the bangs were a conscious fashion decision and not
the product of a mental breakdown — perhaps trying to
convince myself as much as them.
I didn’t think it would take much convincing because,
for the most part, I felt like I was doing well. I returned
from Paris feeling more confident, independent and
solid in my identity. This was a year of change and new
experiences, and I was going to embrace it fully — hair
and all. Cutting my bangs was another exciting change in
an era of my life where things seemed to be constantly in
flux, and I was completely OK with that.
This was the dominant narrative I was telling myself.
There was one big “but” to this, however — I didn’t have
a summer internship lined up. That was something I was
enormously insecure about, and perhaps the anxiety
surrounding that aspect of my life manifested itself into
enough liquid courage to pick up the kitchen scissors.
Bangs on women tend to fall into one of two categories:
5-year-olds on their first day of kindergarten or “artsy
girls” with film cameras and Monet paintings on their
walls. I’d flirted with the “artsy girl” identity before
(having both a film camera and Monet prints on my dorm
wall), but was wary to commit to it.
As a high school senior, I was deciding between the
University of Michigan and University of California-
Berkeley. One of the appeals of the University of
Michigan was how many different types of people I
would be surrounded with. But being from California
meant Berkeley was the easier option. It was in-state, I
would know people there, and I’d spent a fair amount of
time in Berkeley.
I also felt that everyone that went to Berkeley was the
same in a familiar way — “artsy” political activists who
cared about the environment and were vegetarian. I was
afraid it would be too easy for me to fall into that identity
without really trying to be different, without actively
surrounding myself with people who didn’t come from a
liberal Californian town.
So I came to Michigan, and I surrounded myself
with new people. Freshman year, I definitely made
some friends that were familiar artsy political activist
types, but also spent a fair amount
of time in circles that were more
“mainstream”— and tried to make
myself as palatable as possible to as
wide a range of people as I could. I
dressed relatively unobtrusively, I
tailgated for every game day, I went to
frat parties on Friday nights.
And it was great — I felt like I was
getting the full “college experience.”
It was also completely necessary, I
think, for me to try different things
and throw myself into that scene. The
thing that I eventually began to come
to terms with over the next few years,
however, was that I wasn’t always
being quite myself in these situations.
I was trying to be neutral, to be
whatever and whoever was expected
of me in any given setting — whether
that was the (pseudo) sorority girl
who wore bedsheets to themed
toga parties, or the political science
student who wouldn’t shut up about
John Locke. I wasn’t necessarily being
untrue to myself. I was just trying,
really hard, to be the stereotype of a
million different things at once.
So, I cut my bangs. I figured that if I
was going to live a life of stereotypes,
I might as well pick one and run all
the way with it. And while the new
haircut was in part maybe just a
manifestation of a need for change, it
also simultaneously symbolized me
letting go of the Meghann who would
try to blend into every social group.
I am a stereotypically artsy liberal
political activist girl from California
who now lives in Kerrytown, and I
am fully ready to embrace that aesthetic
in the most obnoxious, cliché way possible. Cutting the
bangs also gave me courage in the way haircuts tend to
do. The bangs made me feel new and shiny, and view
myself in a different light. I felt more confident in my own
skin than I had in a long time, and the feeling lasted.
My bangs and I have been together for almost four
months now, and we’re doing great.
It might just seem like a haircut — and it totally is just a
haircut. I still look more or less like the same person I did
a few years ago. Even my own father, who is notoriously
unobservant about these things, didn’t notice my bangs
until I pointed them out to him an hour into our dinner.
I’m well aware that there are much more dramatic
changes people can make to their lifestyle — yet, bangs
still feel like they hold a special spot as a tried and true
classic of self-reinvention.
Bangs tend to get a bad rap as a product of mental
breakdowns and low periods of someone’s life. This
narrative, however, overlooks the reality that changing
one’s personal appearance (even if it’s through bangs) can
be immensely cathartic — changing the filter through
which the world perceives you is so empowering and in
my case, made me feel more like myself than I had in a
long while. And I did eventually find an internship that
summer. Which probably can’t be entirely attributed to
the bangs, but I’d like to think that they get at least some
credit. Or at least some credit goes to the confidence and
subsequent wave of motivation they gave me.
So if you’re considering bangs, my advice is to just
do the damn thing. Just maybe invest in some sharper
scissors than your mother’s kitchen pair.
Wednesday, October 2, 2019 // The Statement
2B
Managing Statement Editor
Andrea Pérez Balderrama
Deputy Editors
Matthew Harmon
Shannon Ors
Associate Editor
Eli Rallo
Designers
Liz Bigham
Kate Glad
Copy Editor
Silas Lee
Photo Editor
Danyel Tharakan
Editor in Chief
Maya Goldman
Managing Editor
Finntan Storer
statement
THE MICHIGAN DAILY | OCTOBER 2, 2019
BY MEGHANN NORDEN-BRIGHT, STATEMENT CONTRIBUTOR
In defense of bangs
PHOTO BY DANYEL THARAKAN