I have had pretty much the same haircut (with slight variations) since I was 3 years old. Maybe longer, even, but this example from 1978 is the earliest I can find. Every now and then I try something different, but it always comes back to blunt bangs, cut short enough that the expanse of skin above my brows is roughly equivalent to size of my eyelids. I noticed the consistency of that proportion a few years ago, and I do my best to maintain it.
When my bangs get too long, I get crabby. Trims usually happen past midnight, in a fit of frustration and inability to wait for an appointment with a professional. That’s where I was last night, after watching Project Runway sandwiched by DNC speeches by Bill Clinton and Joe Biden.
Now I feel like me again.