If you recall the film's premise, the chauffeur's daughter Sabrina (who is crushing HARD on the boss' younger son) receives the opportunity to go intern with Vogue in Paris, France. At the onset, the character is modelled in the fashion of characters like Mia Thermopolis in The Princess Diaries: frumpy, not stylish whatsoever, with long unkempt hair.
Sabrina's time spent in the evocative fashion atmosphere of Paris is life-altering; she returns home a changed woman: style, femininity, and confidence oozing from every pore.
When I first saw this Sabrina, I was QUITE young. I did not appreciate the humor and wit until much later, but what stood out was how drastic and amazing that haircut was. It was bold and daring, and she ROCKED that look. I made a decision at that moment: the day I make it to Paris, I would chop off ALL my hair.
Mind you, I've had short hair before. Around the age of 11-12, I cut my hair, going from waist-length to a Halle Berry-style bob. However, prepubescent haircuts are VERY different from haircuts as an adult. By the time of this trip, my hair had grown out back to waist-length, even as far as being dubbed Medusa due to the wild curly waves. It became an identifying mark, recognizable from a distance.
When Ribz and I first were accepted as delegates, we were thinking of just heading straight to Italy and spending all of our time there. Upon further discussion, we decided to go a week earlier to stay in Paris with our friends. As soon as we opted on Paris, I immediately contacted Sara and asked her if she could hunt around for a sister who could cut my hair. I had only one condition: tell no one else of my plans. The only ones privy to my plans were the following: my parents, Ribz and Sara. NO ONE ELSE had any idea of what I was going to do.
I'm going to fill you in on a not-so-secret secret: the Latino culture is REALLY big on women with long hair. It's a celebrated trait in traditional beauty standards; you won't often see a pixie cut in this community. Ask some ladies about short hair, and perhaps their shortest 'do would have grazed their shoulders. I had gotten endless compliments over the years concerning my own locks, but the itch for something shockingly new was far too tantalizing to resist. Fortunately, both of my parents are quite avant garde in terms of things of this nature, so they were 100% on board with my decision. The only one who took longer to be convinced was Ribz, whose voiced doubts would last till the day I actually went through.
Back to the mane story. (See what I did there?)
I had a good 7 months to research and Pinterest pixie cuts to my heart's content, finally settling on a chic above the ears style. Sara found a sister in her congregation named Deborah who works as a hairdresser conveniently, so arrangements were made for the haircut to be done our last day in France.
Now we fast forward to the day of. We'd finished our Bethel tour and returned to the bustling heart of fair Paris. Sara, being in a rush to help finalize our last meal, told me that she'd drop me off near Deborah's home and pick me up later.
WAIT. WHAT?
I was completely caught off guard when we drove up to a random lady (in my opinion) walking her small dogs. In a French exchange far too fast for me to catch, Sara made arrangements for the lady, who happened to be a fellow Witness friend, to take me to Deborah's. I got out quickly and followed the sister to a door, feeling completely comme un poisson hors de l’eau. The door opened, and away the sister skiddaddled, leaving me with Deborah smiling at each other the way people who don't speak the same language do.
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| "Ummmmm..... bonjour? Le haircut?" |
Fortunately, awkwardness doesn't remain too long when you're among your spiritual family, so Deborah ushered me in with a double cheek kiss and a hug. Since I had left my phone (and Pinterest pictures) in Sara's car, we made due with Google Images of my desired haircut.
I've never seen a facial expression change so fast.
"C'est un changement radical, no?"
"Oui!"
Deborah shampooed the heavy locks, and then....THE MOMENT OF TRUTH. She gathered it all up into a ponytail, scissors poised for the kill. With several skillfully snips, my head snapped forward, suddenly free of all of the weight. WOW. I had forgotten the lightness of having nothing touching the nape of of my neck. It was, needless to say, my Sabrina moment.
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| 6 year old Alyssa would have been very very proud indeed. |
For me, this epitomized my take on travelling: sometimes the things that will completely rattle you out of your comfort zone will be the most memorable. Within reason, stretching homemade boundaries will take you above and beyond where you ever expected to be or do. I've gone through several even shorter cuts since coming back to the States, and you know what? I regret nothing. Sure it's grown out now to a sizable curly bush atop my scalp, but I can say 100% that I have done it, loved it, and if so desired, would do it all over again. Because, why not?
Ok this was a really fun post to write, being that soooo many friends still ask why I cut Medusa in the first place. Thank you for being such a great audience to my funny little stories. Stay tuned for the next post! Next stop Italy!!!
Love,
The Adventurous A.
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