I Cut Sia’s Hair
By: Peggy Willms
(4 min read)
“Don’t worry she is going to be fine!”
“But it’s way shorter on the left side.”
“Trust me. She will love it!”
Sia is an Australian singer songwriter who has been belting out tunes since the 90’s. Chandelier, Cheap Thrills and Titanium are just a few of her top hits. She has worked with David Guetta, Eminem, Wiz Khalifa, Kanye West and many more.
Most know her for her black and platinum blonde straight-banged wigs. Well…I cut her hair the other day. That made you spit out your coffee didn’t it!
Sia lives in our backyard. We have loved her since we moved in. She is about 10 feet tall, gorgeous, snobby and what a head of hair that girl has. She is quite fashionable. Her neighborhood reputation precedes her. I knew I needed to get my hands on that mop top from our first walk-through. The girl needed a trim. And she got a big one.
Sia is our bottlebrush tree. If you have ever seen a bottlebrush, you know it is bowl-shaped exactly like Sia’s wig. We named her on move-in day.
We all need a trim. You know those days when you realize you have pushed the envelope a little too far. The day when you recognize you needed a haircut about two weeks prior. I get it especially with the type of haircut I have. Going past my four-week mark gets me in a lot of trouble. Not literal trouble with my barber, but it gets unruly.
After I grabbed my brand-new, large-grip hedge trimmers, which were ordered just for Sia, I headed out to meet her face-to-face for the first time. Placing our massive ladder next to her, I then realized I shouldn’t be tackling this by myself on uneven ground wearing a knee brace, and holding a two-bladed sword. But I am no dummy. As I said, she has a neighborhood reputation so do you think I am going to trim her up when others are watching? Hell no. It is 7:00 a.m., and I am getting the job done.
Let’s first talk about her trunk. This girl looks like she is leaning against a brick wall in an alley smoking a cig. She is slanting hard core to the left. That is a no go for her new owner who watches her every day from the kitchen window. See the new owner is a bit OCD – that’s me. The left side of her wig is so thick and out of control, it’s affecting her posture. Every single day, I thought about giving her a trim, and she was getting one if it killed me. God, I hoped it wouldn’t kill me.
YouTube shows you everything. It’s my main go-to. In about three minutes, I became a bottlebrush barber. I knew exactly where to cut that mop to promote growth not death. Away I went hacking and hacking. She shook her shoulders as she became free from the ratted mess. Chop, toss, chop, toss. Half of her head looked dead. It was like a bad dreadlock. As I pulled out her strands, I came upon a nest with a baby dove in it. We had a polite conversation. She didn’t understand what I was doing to her home. So now this precious little thing and Sia were pissed at me.
By the time I was done, Sia’s right side had flowing red bristles and her left side looked like a campfire ready to combust. Immediately, I knew my new neighbors would think I was a demon who had rolled into town and mutilated the blessed beauty of the community.
Still confident, I stood back and assumed responsibility for my decision. My man woke up and his comment was, “What in the hell did you do?”
I said, “Trust me, she will thank me. She is actually happy she just doesn’t know it yet.”
If looks could kill.
Day after day, she licked up the afternoon Florida showers that roll in at about 2-3 p.m., and she sunbathed in the early morning rays. She liked her new hairdo; she was just being stubborn.
About three days after Sia got her haircut, I headed off to see Ziggy, my own barber. It was time for my trim and trust me, it had been too long. Just like Sia, it was going to be a shocker. After he was done, he said, “Now you haven’t been in for a bit so your curly hair is going to be ticked off. It will take a bit to retrain that Mohawk.” Then it dawned on me. Sia was re-training. Phew. I knew she would be just fine.
This morning, while sitting outside, I looked at Sia, and she was staring back at me. What she said next made me roll off the lounge chair.
“Girl, have you looked in the mirror lately? That mop on your head looks worse than mine ever did!” She had a point.
All Things Wellness, LLC
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