hair envy: deux

It's been nearly a year since I last expressed my hair envy, but even though my hair's twice as long as it was then, I definitely still feel like I'm lacking something. (Interest. My hair lacks any point of interest.) Here are a bunch of hair pictures I've been gathering just to rub it in.

Beginning with natural-looking hair that could be achieved by someone with a hair texture different from mine. This is Joanna Bernacka, here to make your hair feel inadequate.

The mussed-up volume! The soft waves! The lived-in-ness!

Rumi's head in double braids (how is this even possible?), because there's something appealingly alien about really tight braids, especially in unexpected places.

Feather hair extensions. Not my style, but I'd be lying if I said that seeing it on other people didn't inspire major hair envy in me. Now, before we move into unnatural hair color territory, I'd just like to take a moment (or thirty) to let my hair envy bubble and splutter at the injustice of NOT HAVING HAIR LIKE THESE LADIES:

Have I mentioned that I have major redhead envy? Because my name is Samantha, and I have major redhead envy.

Not sure what era this hair would fall under (1920s judging by the length and perhaps finger waves?), but this is perfect in at least 47 ways.

Life is not fair.

NOT FAIR. If I wore a giant fur coat in the same color family as my hair, I would just look like any all-black-wearing fashion editor, not a quirky ass-kicking artist.

This is Vanessa from My heart blogged. WHAT IS HER HAIR EVEN. LOOK AT THAT IMPOSSIBLE TEXTURE.

This is Amber from Forever Amber. She is 13 shades of redhead PERFECT.

Jane, from Sea of Shoes, of course, because her hair is (or at least should be) legendary. It should be celebrated or described in a non-historical or unverifiable story handed down by tradition from earlier times and popularly accepted as historical. [source, source]

Stop it. Just stop it. This color is unreal. Jane Aldridge is not a real person. She is a hair goddess sent to live on earth among us mortals.

I can feel my hair's self-esteem stumbling into the gutter in a haze of hairspray-ethyl-alcohol, gambling, and loose women.

Flawless hair is flawless. When you are done weeping over your inadequate hair, pick yourself up and dust yourself off, because there is hope, and its name is UNNATURAL COLORING:

This is Chanelle from Not So Naked. I know it's kind of late for dip dye hair, but I want it. In shades of violet, dark blue, and sea green, so that I can feel like a Creature of the Deep is swimming around my head.

Augh. Her color even fades well.

Then again, if I dyed my hair like this, it wouldn't look the same anyway. The texture would be much more Severus Snape Dipped In Oil Meets Ceramic Flat Iron than Careless, Carefree, Calculated Nonchalance.

The photo that started my fishtail braid curiosity.

And of course, peacock-colored hair. With little plastic hairclips that I probably wore without irony when I was four.

I don't think I could ever go this light without looking sickly, but be still, my beating heart! This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
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