Maybe we’re just old, though that wouldn’t explain my styling over the years. Perhaps it’s a rural thing. Rick and I have reached that stage in life where we are perfectly happy to cut each other’s hair. We have no particular developed skills in that field, and, admittedly, the first few times occasionally left one or the other of us looking like someone had cut gum out of our hair. But it eliminates another reason to drive into town.

I did my years of the precision cut. I see articles from time to time… “the ten best cuts for women over 50.” But then I shrug. Those fancy cuts can be stunning–but like addictive drugs–they keep you coming back every six weeks or so. Usually stylish haircuts are not inexpensive.  And, when you’re new in town, especially if you have ‘difficult hair’ there’s that long and frustrating process of finding the right stylist who can keep you looking spiffy.

Historically, women wore hair long and “back or up.” There was an efficiency in it, to keep it out of the way. I keep my hair at about shoulder length with bangs, so that it is always long enough to braid back, and the inevitable short strands in the front don’t vex me. It’s practical. I suppose I never put too much stock in appearances, and fashion is beyond my attention span.

Rick has great hair–thick, wavy, and layered with silver. On him, you could use an axe and still get an attractive cut. If he wanted it really short, it might be beyond my skillset–but he prefers it at a length that is pretty forgiving for the newbie at hair-cutting. Long gone are the days of real barbershops. Men’s haircuts are nearly as expensive at women’s.

We figure we save a couple hundred dollars a year with our traded barbery. And we don’t have to go out and find someone who’ll tolerate our level of disinterest. I guess I look good enough to him, and he to me. What more do we need?

(Not surprisingly, no photos will be attached to this blog.)