I’ve been thinking about it for a while—cutting my hair, that is. The thought keeps circling back like an intrusive little whisper every time I catch my reflection or mindlessly twist my ends. It’s been a solid twelve months since I last colored it, the greys are beginning to softly announce themselves, and instead of calmly addressing what that next phase might look like, I’m daydreaming about a bob. Or maybe a fringe. Or both? Or neither, but also… definitely something.
There’s something about the beginning of the year that makes even the most low-maintenance among us restless. January and February feel like a waiting room—too early for real spring, too far from the cozy hibernation of winter. And with spring on the horizon, that familiar itch for renewal creeps in. We clean out closets, romanticize morning routines, and convince ourselves a haircut might be the reset we didn’t know we needed. Hair, after all, is one of the few changes we can make quickly that feels symbolic and tangible.
I’ve been doing the mental pros-and-cons list on repeat. Less hair in my face. Less shampoo. Less conditioner. Fewer strands trapped under my armpits, caught in jacket zippers, or clenched in my three-year-old’s surprisingly strong grip. But also: more frequent trims, slightly more effort to style, and the loss of my trusty topknot on days when dry shampoo is doing the absolute most. Somewhere in the background, I can hear a friend saying, “It’s just hair, it will grow,” which is comforting—but also feels dismissive of how strangely personal hair decisions can be.
This isn’t new behavior for me. I’ve done this cycle my whole life—grow it long, get bored, chop it off. Rinse, repeat. Never quite long enough to donate, always long enough to feel dramatic about cutting it. I’m not sure if it’s my way of shedding the past or trying to mark the start of something new. Maybe both. Lately, I keep bumping into Keira Knightley—literally, and visually. Her effortlessly cool style paired with that classic, unfussy bob feels like the haircut equivalent of a deep exhale. Of course, she also has impeccable bone structure and a team of professionals, neither of which live in my bathroom cabinet.
Seasonally, the timing feels questionable. It’s still deeply cold. Would a bob make beanie-wearing easier or harder? Would it finally justify investing in a cute bonnet? And will it grow out enough by summer to hit that perfect air-dry length—the one where you can swim, scrunch, and go without thinking too hard?
Then there’s the rule. You know the one. Draw a line from the tip of your chin to the bottom of your earlobe. If that measurement is less than 2.25 inches, short hair supposedly suits you best. If it’s longer, you’re “meant” for long hair. According to this very scientific system, I fall just under the threshold. Which would suggest that short hair is my destiny. Funny, considering I’ve had long hair for the better part of twenty years—minus that brief lockdown chop that no one styled or documented because… 2020.
What feels different this time is the trend landscape. Right now, hair trends are less about perfection and more about intention. Bobs are softer, fringes are grown-in and customizable, and the emphasis is on movement and texture rather than sharp lines. The modern bob isn’t screaming “big change”—it’s whispering “effortless.” Think collarbone-grazing lengths, subtle layers, and cuts that work with your natural texture, not against it. Even fringes have softened—airy, parted, and forgiving if you decide commitment isn’t your thing.
Spring also brings a shift in how we style. Lighter formulas, air-dry creams, and multi-use products (this one works for both air-dries and blow-dries–-winning) start to feel more appealing than heavy serums and high-hold sprays. If I did go shorter, I’d want products that enhance rather than control—something to add softness, a touch of texture, and a bit of polish without looking overdone. A lightweight leave-in to smooth without flattening, a flexible styling cream for definition, and a dry texture spray for those “I didn’t try, but I kind of did” days. Fewer products overall, just smarter ones.
So do I need a bob? Or am I just bored, cold, and craving a little reinvention as the year slowly turns toward spring? Honestly, probably all of the above. But maybe that’s the point. Haircuts don’t have to be practical or profound—they can simply be a way of marking time, welcoming change, or feeling like yourself again in a slightly different way. And if nothing else, it is just hair. It will grow. But right now, the bob is calling—and I’m definitely listening. Thoughts? Should I cut it, friends?
