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you could trust me, the MCU whispered in my ear.
Look at all these beautiful gifts I have given you.
It was possibly the worst massacre in the history of the MCU, and I dont say that lightly.
I am talking, of course, about everyones hair.
Forget all the death and destruction, and focus on whats important: all those relentlesslyhorrible dos!
Like Ant-Man, I was nervous, but ultimately, YOLO.
Ten dollars?How to achieve this look:Hire a stylist to come to your penthouse.
Leave a $300 tip.
Proceed to decorate said penthouse entirely in reflective surfaces.
Check yourself out at every opportunity, but never, I repeat,neverget caught.
I promise I wont tell.How to achieve this look: Skip a haircut.
Tousle your hair with just a dab of wax.
Make finger guns into the bathroom mirror.
Set aside an afternoon to do something just for you.
Maam, you’re free to do anything.
Develop a hopeless crush on a man youve never met.
Give your voice to a sea witch.
Have your assistant spritz it with maximum hold hairspray.
Resign yourself to the truth that you are now contractually obligated to be a mall Santa.
Breathe in the salty smell of the breaking waves.
When your stylist asks what sort of look youre going for, point longingly toward the ocean.
No, more than that.
Then comb your hair straight back.
Once dry, it should make a dull clanging sound when you hit it.
Relocate to Erebor following the defeat of the dragon Smaug.
Attend the Council of Elrond.
Pledge yourself to a hobbit.
Kill 42 orcs at the Battle of Helms Deep.
Just wake up like this.
Greet everyone you meet along the way.
If you pass any dogs, pet them.
Tell him you found a neat new stamp for his collection, which youll bring by next time.
Set your hair in hot rollers overnight.
Compose a mental list of all the things that make you worthy of more.
Realize it is an extremely long list.
Comb your hair out in the morning, part off-center.
Apply a bold lipstick and a take-no-prisoners smile.
Never,ever, wash your hair only comb it straight back.
From time to time, take a large barrel curling iron to the ends of each layer.
Hold it all in place with liberal amounts of grease and spite.
And your brothers widows favorite lover.
And your enemys most vengeful, rum-running nightmare.
Succumb to a bears wrath in the end.
Realize youve forgotten to get a haircut for … well, youre not really sure.
Look at the clock and realize youre late for work.
Finger-comb while trying to avoid your reflection in the mirror.
Let out a beleaguered sigh.
The Maaaaybe Swipe Right?
Fashion the front wisps into an upward swoop, somehow.
Hold in place with whatever brand of hair wax was on sale at Target last week.
Give your hair a lazy curl, because womencanthave it all.
Realize this look is still really impractical for work, but at least its off your neck.
Carefully use a comb to pull down long tendrils that frame your face.
Go surprise Billy at his locker after school.
Find him kissing Jennifer.
Go home and cry on your bed for an hour.
Scribble his photo out of your yearbook.
Write an angry note, then rip it up and flush it down the toilet.
Pass out next to a plate of cold pizza rolls.
Oh, hi, Mark.How to achieve this look:Be an enigma.
Cry occasionally for no reason.
Have a mysterious and unlimited fortune.
Roll around on the floor.
Ask your stylist to turn your cascading tresses into a DIY crown.
Wear silken robes paired with metal body armor at all times, even to bed.
Be a literal queen.
Grab the knives that you keep hidden on your person at all times.
Heat them over the nearest open flame.
Dont worry about aim, itll all work out.
Without washing your hands, run your eyeliner-coated fingers through your hair a few times.
Load two boxes onto the truck, then eat half the pizza they provided for their volunteers.
Tell everyone you forgot you had somewhere to be.
Dont listen to naysayers.
Be an actual woodland creature.
Keep it a few shades darker than your natural color using Manic Panic.
Paint your nails with white-out, then color over it with Sharpie.
Sketch unexpectedly pretty floral patterns onto your jeans during class.
Grow increasingly more frustrated as mediocre men consistently get the job you want.
Fashion your rage into a blade.
Use it to cut your hair into a sharp bob, then stow it away for safekeeping.
Youll need it someday.
Plug in your flat iron and wait for it to preheat.
Section your hair into layers, secure with clips.
Working bottom to top, use the flatiron to curl each layer of hair away from your face.
Youll get there when you get there.
Secure with those fold-over brass crimp ends you ordered from Etsy.
Gather into a single ponytail at the nape of your neck.
Now break out that Topsy Tail Tool you bought off an infomercial in 1993.
Decide that this path leads only to madness.
Comb everything straight back, save for a dashing swoop in the front.
Trim your beard into a neat goatee that inexplicably turns your chin into a work of art.
Youre saved by the bell.
Make a witty but scathing sign.
Tie your natural curls out of your face with the elastic band you keep around your wrist.
Dont concern yourself with the pieces that fall out.
Add some ironic glitter to your sign.
Hold it in place using the transcendent power of your charisma.
It shouldnt work, but youmakeit work.
Take a shower, finally.
Flip your glorious black mane excessively during battle.
You were missing for two years and trapped inside a Hulk the whole time?
Did your hair retract into your head?
Is that a side effect of gamma radiation?
Grow stubble so thick it could stop a bullet.
Style the rest of your hair into dreadlocks.
Rock them like no one has ever rocked them before.
Get angry at the bottle for being empty and smash it against the nearest hard surface.
French braid the center one from your forehead to your crown.
Get a cramp in your arm.
Work your look so hard you register on the Richter scale.
Brush your hair for a thousand strokes while humming the opening song fromTangled.
Let it flow brilliantly over your shoulders like waves of fire.
Bleach it to platinum blonde.
Throw away your curling iron.
Literally every long-haired woman on Earth knows how to do this, unless theyre in a movie.
While they work, recite the lyrics to Creep.
Let your hair grow longer.
Fail to prevent the destruction of half of all life in the universe.
Decide nothing matters anymore.
Let your roots grow out for a few years.
Halfheartedly trim the ends yourself while sipping from a water bottle full of vodka.
Ask yourself who you are and what you really want.
Realize that your hair has never really matched who you are as a person.
Chop it all off using a blast of heat from your fingers.
Suffer an existential crisis.
Subsist on beer and sadness.
Project your guilt onto your hair.
Allow it to grow free and wild, until it is your defining characteristic.
Wander desolate streets with no real destination in mind.
Watch a tumbleweed as it blows by.
Happen upon a barbershop.
Go inside to find the barber laboriously sweeping up a pile of ashes.
Stare at each other across the void.
Sink slowly to your knees.
Whisper, Do your worst, as a solitary tear traces down your cheek.
In conclusion, the MCU hair chronicles serve as a textbook example of better does not always mean good.
Long live Peppers bangs.
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