The greatest contribution barrettes have made to my personal narrative is two fold. On the one hand, they have single-clippedly created the illusion that I look ten years my junior. Not that I technically need it at my tender 25, but then again, one time last summer a barista at Le Pain Quotidien asked me if I was treating my daughter, who was actually my mother, to coffee. I know I’ve told you this at least twice already but it never gets old.
Incidentally, I, however, do.
In lieu of this, just last week, I got carded. The week before that, my mother looked at me forlornly, presumably remembering the days I could not yet string together a sentence that I might use against her in the unofficial family court of personal affairs. And do you know why? Because I was wearing a barrette.
On the other hand of those initial folds, the hair piece has taught me to distinguish berets — the “French painter hats,” as my dad would say, that we wear on our heads from barrettes — the clips we use to gather hair to the side or the front or the middle of our faces. How, you might ask, have they taught this discernment? Well, until yesterday at 4:03PM, I had no idea how to spell the latter. Google proves its worth again.
You learn something new everyday, you know? Today, let your morsel of new knowledge hinge on a trend-on-the-fringe care of a) Miu Miu, b) Carven, c) Rodarte, d) Cacharel, e) Peter Som f) Alexa Chung and g) barrettes. Of course!
Lately, I have taken to making an exaggerated side part in my hair and clipping about two fingers worth on the parted side into a barrette that rests just a few inches above my ear. I like how it looks against a blunt bob (Margot Tenenbaum, anyone?) and the corresponding androgynous clothes that I wear, like denim cut offs and a mens blouse, provide the arrival at a nice intersection, where boy meets girl, lamb meets lion or Kris Jenner gets an ass whooping from Oprah.
When I consider additional champions of the style: Charlotte Wiggins, Emma Watson, Dakota Fanning, I am inexplicably reassured about my recent choices and the Man Repeller crystal ball shines green. Not for cargo shorts, no, but to be able to say “hirsute in her suit? Trendy!”
Will you try it? Do you do it? Would someone please, for the love of all that is fine, make some bobby pins in gold? Here are some others until then.