I’m still wondering if I want to get bangs, six months after posting The Cut’s hard-hitting journalistic investigation of the trendy updated shag haircut.

We gathered a lot of old pictures to display at my mom’s “celebration of life” service; not to sound utterly shallow but I was shocked at how bad my hair looked in most of them. I spent most of my 20s trying to be blond and not conditioning enough, and on short curly hair it all added up to looking like I was in a Harpo Marx wig.

Since the funeral, I’ve gone full “Curly Girl Method” and kept growing out my hair, which is helping my hair satisfaction levels–but just once, I want what The Cut article leads with:

It would be so nice to have a good haircut. Like, a really good one. The kind of haircut that looks like the result of understanding what sort of haircut would look good on you. The kind of haircut that looks effortless or, if not effortless, at least the result of effort expended fruitfully. The kind of haircut that makes an acquaintance at a mutual friend’s birthday party see you and say, oh cute haircut.