I had this hairdresser in Tokyo (a completely insane woman) who used to say things to me as she was working on my bonce like 'my husband, he is like a fridge,' or 'hmm, nice geomEtric shape!' But she was good with those scissors, so I went back and endured the stress of trying to make sense of her bizarre and random announcements. One day she was off, and I had to get my hair cut elsewhere. They screwed it up royally. And you can't be having that when it's short. SO, the next time she cut it, I took this photo in the bathroom mirror, in case I ever had to go to another place, the idea being I could just show them this shot, and not emerge with something horrific because of language barriers. And that is the story of this photograph. Once again (on this stream): it's not what it looks like.
Also, for the record, it is very rarely what it looks like.