Long hair breathes sensuality. Imagine shining trellises tumbling past milky white shoulders, or even better, woven into intricate braids so the light dances across the undulating surface.
But there are downfalls. An intricate hairstyle requires hairpins to stick into every inch of your scalp. And a mere lift of an eyebrow is sufficient to grind those pins even further into your head. And it takes time, time that cannot possibly be described as pampering, not when you need to keep completely still for fear of your dresser accidently ripping out half your hair by the roots. Assuming you are lucky enough to have a dresser, if not, you do at least quickly develop excellent triceps muscles. I should know.
I cut my long hair last year and I regret it. Shorter hair is more practical, especially when you have young children with grasping hands. But I miss the feeling of my hair piled on top of my head and the contrast of hair pulled taut by each pin and the loose tendrils framing my face.
Here is an extract from Braving Madness, where the hero gets his first proper view of the heroine.
With the room well lit, Edward approached Betty in trepidation. He’d thought her appealing beneath the moonlight, at least in looks if not personality, but moonlight could cover a multitude of sins. Even with the brightest moon, the night was still rather dark.
She was hunched over the writing desk and a tendril of light auburn hair framed a face screwed up with concentration. The auburn, spanning the myriads of tones between the deepest copper and the lightest blonde, highlighted the peach tint of her cheeks.
Edward sucked in his breath. The moonlight had been accurate.