Let me explain myself:
Earlier this year I became a campaigner for 100 Things and wrote out my list of things I want to do before I die. Number 6 on that list was to cut all my hair off. I’ve always had long hair, and, in the spirit of 100 Things, this really pushed me out of my comfort zone. A very close family friend, Scotty, passed away on the 6th June this year from Cancer, and in my heart, I quietly felt I would do this as a nod to him.
A couple of months ago, I received an invitation from a colleague to attend a ‘Clip for Cancer’ fundraiser as moral support. It was in memory of his friend who passed away on 9th June this year.
I figured, this was the perfect opportunity – I would join in on the big clip with eight other people; tick an item off my list and do it for a good cause = Perfect. I was excited.
My initial logic was “I’ll just have a short do for a while, No big deal”. But I was profoundly surprised at the enormity of this experience through reactions of those around me, and the experience itself.
Whilst the majority of responses I received were a mixed bag of support, excitement, encouragement , and even indifference; I did get the occasional horrified loved one negotiating my decision, and in the final hours, desperately turning the negotiation into the actual length of the cut itself.
As the date drew closer, and more conversations were had on the topic, it became clearer to me that this was a bigger deal to those around me than I had ever imagined! People told me I was “brave” and “generous”…and “crazy”. I’m not the first person to do this; but the idea (particularly for women) of losing their hair was anything from laughable to mortifying.
Having always had long hair, and just going with the default style I presumed always suited me, it’s not something I’ve ever really thought about before, but it has left me pondering what it is that is so important about our hair?
My friends thinking about me with short hair.
One of the most common questions was “What does your partner think of this?”. He, of course, is fine with it, and pulled out some safe chestnuts like “She’s beautiful no matter what” and “90% of her is still going to look the same!” (God bless his cotton socks), but after a while, that question became quite offensive to me.
People genuinely thought my boyfriend would find me less attractive with short hair! I am not my hair! Having a haircut won’t automatically morph my face into that of some unrecognisable wilderbeast! Yet, people thought it was perfectly natural for both of us to kiss my femininity goodbye and get used to a sub-standard version of my aesthetics. Odd.
An artist's impression of what Richard's mates and my Mum imagined I would look like post-clip
On the day, I travelled to Cairns and drove myself 2 hours south on what was one of the most beautiful drives I have ever done (complete with sun showers, and tropical greenery) and arrived tired, hot, and dusty at Castaways Resort. Opening my hotel room door I was welcomed by one of the most blissful views – 50 metres away was a lining of palm trees and the beach. Just stunning.
View from my hotel room...Ahhhh.
Only a few minutes to soak in the little piece of paradise I was blessed to be in, before I was to start getting ready for the cocktail party where the ‘big clip’ was taking place.
I started to get nervous. I spoke with two family members before leaving my room – one was for, one was against. I didn’t need the eleventh hour discouragement but before we hung up I was told I had support. Thank you.
I chose to wear a silk navy dress that my niece gave me for my 30th birthday; the same dress I wore to Scotty’s funeral. That choice was easy. I toyed with the idea of doing something fancy with my long blonde hair, considering this would be the final formal occasion I would have such an opportunity for quite some time. But I rationalised it was getting cut off anyway. Plus it was hot. And frankly, at this point in time, I was genuinely sick of my hair. I was happy about the idea of no longer having to wrestle with it every day. I pulled it back in a pony. Asked for strength, and headed out on my own.
At the party I sought out my work mate, Saul, who was the entertainment for the night. He was the only person I knew in a crowd of approximately 200, and he would be busy all night. We had a quick chat before he went on stage, and then I assumed my default position at the bar.
Me & Saul before the clip
Patiently seeking out the host of the party, Katrina, and trying not to get in anyone’s way, I felt like a charlatan. The odd one out. I was at an event that was a partial fundraiser for Melanoma and part memorial for the brother of the host who passed away earlier this year. I had never met him. Every person attending the event was family, friend or a member of the closely knit Tully community. I just had to throw myself in make conversation.
As I moved through the crowd, I was introduced to Katrina. Half expecting an “Oh hi. You’re the crazy Clip Crasher”, I put on my best, humble smile that said “Thanks for having me in this very private, emotional event”. As soon as she saw me her eyes beamed, her smile wide and genuine. She threw her arms around me and gave me a hug as though we were long-lost friends “Monique! It is so good to meet you! Thank you so much for being here and for everything you’ve done!” She then enthusiastically reached to people around her; her best friend, her Mum, her father, her husband; to introduce them all to me. It was a relief, a joy and privilege being part of this amazingly heart-felt community spirit.
I eased in and chatted with many people – every single one of them was just lovely. I met the other people who were also having their hair shaved that night – all immediate family of Glen’s. Even though they welcomed and accepted me with open arms, I was still the odd one out! Still, I was really glad I was doing this with other people, and not alone.
Katrina’s friend, Tina, and Saul’s roadie, Josh and I hung out a lot as the three of us didn’t know anyone - Turns out I wasn’t alone!
The sense of community, spirit, support, and love from everyone was amazing. It was reminiscent of how I felt at wakes I have attended in the past. Through melancholy and grief, people are united – even complete strangers. I was overwhelmed at how welcoming and loving these people were to me – Someone they had never met, and they treated me as though I was a member of the family.
Katrina had her hair shaved first, and along with every person after her, went completely bald – razor and all. She was brave, and as I watched with a smile on my face, I was feeling her mixed emotions – a high from the night, and what she was accomplishing – but also sadness for her brother; the reason she was there doing what she was. She looked beautiful, and carried a bald head so well! Her entire family followed, including a late entry by their grandmother (well into her eighties, I’m told). What a legend! That was so cool.
At around 9pm it was my turn. I sat on a chair reserved for me on the dance floor and met the Barber and Hairdresser who had volunteered their services for the night. I asked to play Queen’s ‘Don’t Stop me Now’, as that was Scotty’s song.
All the girls with long enough hair had their pony tails auctioned to be cut off. Saul put a $50 note in my hand and had the privilege of relieving me of my trusses. I don’t know if the scissors were blunt or that my hair is just that thick and stubborn, but it took a long time to saw through it, and to be honest it hurt quite a bit. I was trying not to be a sook, but whoever was taking photos at that time would have got some doozies. I heard some clapping. 200 odd faces were looking back at me. My pony was bagged up and dropped in my lap. “Holy shit”. I just stared at it. I have no idea what I felt at that moment. Apprehension? Shock? Numb?
“No turning back now”. The hum of the razor honed in closer to my head. I could hear Freddy Mercury in the background “Don’t stop me now….” It couldn’t have been a better fit of a song, but it did make me sad. I thought about Scotty. I wouldn’t allow myself to cry. I didn’t want people thinking I was crying for my hair!
Then I turned to see someone sitting next to me. It was Josh – he decided at the last minute to go the clip too! Now I wasn’t the only non-family member in the group!
Before I knew it the cape was being torn off me and I was the new owner of a Number 4! Yeah! People clapped and came up to congratulate me. I was overwhelmed with compliments. I felt relief, and also a little bit flat – after such a long build up – that was it!
First pic of me post-clip
When I first went to the bathroom after the cut, I avoided looking at myself in the mirror. I think a part of me was sacred that I wouldn’t like it. But I eventually did, and yes it was very weird. I didn’t recognise myself. “What have I done?” I shook my head and smiled at myself.
All the baldies had our photos taken together, and the rest of the night was spent chatting and soaking in the beautiful views. I took my shoes off and walked out to the water’s edge. I needed a couple of minutes to myself to let what had happened sink in.
'Team Paradise' - Post clip
I looked out at the pictueresque setting of the ocean, the palm trees, and the full moon reflecting on the water. The feeling I had all night, was even though it was a leap and uncomfortable to start with, I knew I was exactly where I needed to be at that time in my life. A lot of people thought it was strange that I was travelling so far to be with strangers, to have my hair chopped off! I can’t argue that it was an impractical and strange decision, but I followed my gut and know I did the right thing for myself.
The next morning I enjoyed a swim that, for the first time, wasn’t followed by a 30 minute production of shampoo and hair drying and frustration. In the shower, though, I did shampoo it, and it felt so weird! You already know I’m crazy, so this won’t surprise you, but I started laughing at myself. I just stood there shampooing my hair laughing hysterically. Me and my hair are funny.
I had breakfast with the Knights and Eadies and bid farewell to a beautiful group of people I now consider great friends. I couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to share this experience with.
So, one week into my new ‘do’ and I am still glad I did it. I have received more compliments in the last five days than I have in the last five years! For some reason people don’t feel strange complimenting a girl with short hair, when they would think it inappropriate to gush over someone’s’ looks with longer hair. Either that or they just feel sorry for me, and feel they need to overcompensate. I don’t care though. I’m sticking with the former :)
I do actually feel more beautiful, funnily enough. Having been relieved of the drama of long hair, I’m freer to just be me. I have no choice – nothing to hide behind. I like it!
I still haven’t figured out the reason for our attachment to hair and why this is such a big deal. But it is a big deal. Just not for all the reasons people talk about. I’m glad I did it.
You can still donate to Katrina Knight’s fundraising page here.
Seek out facts & learn about early detection of Melanoma here.
Check out my 100 Things list here.
