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

