After I figured out how ridiculous it was to spend that kind of money on haircuts I hated, I multiplied that number by 12, realized that my haircut expenses equaled the annual income of many of our world's citizens, and I invested in a set of $26 clippers a couple of years ago.
Aside from shampoo, conditioner, and pomade, that is the last $26 I spent on my hair, and my wallet's not complaining.
I use the deepest one-inch attachment all over my head and trim up the edges, save for the very front, with the 7/8-inch attachment. It's nearly a brush-cut, but I always feel clean and fresh and damn sexy once I'm done, and it's become a tradition for me to call the Palinode to meet me for a drink after work so that the general public can absorb some of my awesomeness.
Invariably, though, someone from that public says "It looks good, but I like a little more length on it."
What? Seriously? I mean, really. I just cut my hair, I am feeling all fabulous, and you tell me that it will be another month before you approve of my hair?
Just like it took me a couple of years to figure out what to do with my hair, it's taken me another couple of years to figure out the public with regard to my hair, and the verdict is in: the public is full of assholes.
Joe Q. Public, this booger's for you.