The booze is fast flowing, and the liquid libation has loosened up both tongue and mind. You start to run your fingers through your hair, been drenched, and begin to notice a series of flaws that you never noticed in the sober realm. Upon further inspection, and a few more bottles of the brown stuff, you grow to sorta hate the way your hair looks. With no mirror other then your clouded brain you long to hack at it until it feels just right to your fingers. And then you remember, you are in the house that hair and makeup built. In a veritable temple of tactility, you realize that the man across from you, although barely able to stand, is a qualified hairdresser. So you instruct him in your most ladylike voice to “Give me a fucking haircut”. And although his good buddy Vic is weighing heavily on his mind, he goes at it like its 12pm, not 12am, like hes stone cold sober, not sweat hot drunk. And that ladies and gents is how one goes about a Midnight Haircut.
The lovely lady going at her bangs with a straight bladed razer is none other then the awesome Janelle. You may recognize her from that series of super fun Belvedere vodka ads alongside another midnight avenger Mr. Terry R. Any girl who can look devilishly innocent while holding a straight-blade is alright by me.
Janelle with a razer and a midnight haircut, She Is Nicotine.