Epeolatry Sunday! The indignity of bad hair cuts

Finally we are back to our regularly scheduled programming! Today’s word is brought to you by J.’s (mis)adventures with hairdressers. I meant to write about this a few weeks ago when he still looked like a Jane Austen heroine crossed with a poodle, but better late than never.

Age-otori: (Japanese) to look worse after getting a haircut.

J. has outrageous hair – the kind of hair I always wanted but could never have: thick, dark, and curly. Over the course of July and August he’d developped a bit of a mullet, so, after months of bitching about this turn of events, finally decided to go to the hairdresser. Unfortunately, his haircut accentuated the mullet instead of removing it. It seemed his barber had just sort of snipped off random chunks of hair while talking about his taxes.

Fastforward a few weeks (filled with more complaining) and he finally he bit the bullet and went to another hairdresser to get the problem fixed once and for all. To be fair, he did come home without the mullet – mainly because the barber had just cut the back half of his hair to within an inch of its life and left the front half the way it was. I have had many questionable haircuts in my life (including one where I spent a few weeks looking like a goat), but this one defnitely took the cake. He, very literally, looked like a poodle crossed with an Austen portrait. The kicker about bad haircuts though is, of course, that you still have to pay for them.


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