A Quote by Halsey

When you're a teenage girl, a lot of being pretty has to do with your hair. — © Halsey
When you're a teenage girl, a lot of being pretty has to do with your hair.
I'm more of a short-hair girl; short hair is a lot more low-maintenance than long hair. And when you're in front of camera every day and your hair is being flatironed and blow-dried it's easier to have a weave so you don't damage your own hair.
Things have changed a lot since the earth was cooling and I was a teenage girl, but the basics of teenage bedrooms have remained the same. Every girl wants a place that they are proud to call their own and where they can express their own individuality.
Don't you know that a man being rich is like a girl being pretty? You wouldn't marry a girl just because she's pretty, but my goodness, doesn't it help?
Actually, I wouldn't know what to do now if I had hair. I'm pretty comfortable being bald. It doesn't bother me. I've never had one girl tell me she didn't want to have sex with me because I didn't have any hair.
Because my hair is curly, I used to do all the straighteners, the Japanese this and the Brazilian that. And at the end of the day, your hair ends up not having a texture, not having the body - no shine. You're pretty much frying your hair. So understand the type of hair you have and do the best with what you have.
I've always had a teenage thread running through my music. On my first album, I had a song called 'Confessions of a Teenage Girl.' It's about using your feminine wealth to get what you want.
Where I'm from in South Carolina a lot of my friends, a lot of my family members have locks, what we call them. So, you know, it's more of a way of life, where we from, not a hairstyle. We really don't care to have it neat or you know too pretty it's just you know grow your hair. And I wash my hair everyday too.
We lived by the water, and I was a pretty normal kid until my teenage years; then I dyed my hair pink and spiraled out of control.
What an unreliable thing is time--when I want it to fly, the hours stick to me like glue. And what a changeable thing, too. Time is the twine to tie our lives into parcels of years and months. Or a rubber band stretched to suit our fancy. Time can be the pretty ribbon in a little girl's hair. Or the lines in your face, stealing your youthful colour and your hair. .... But in the end, time is a noose around the neck, strangling slowly.
You know a lot of times you'll find girls in a club are jaded to the other girls in the club. There's a nasty vibe between the chicks in the club. It's like a pretty girl can't look at another pretty girl and say Wow she's pretty.
I did throw a lot of eggs into one basket, as you do in your teenage years - 'I am buying these records, I am wearing this'. I did quite a bit of that. You have to do it, wear your stupid shoes, wear your stupid hair.
I was a teenage girl once. I was not an overweight teenage girl, but I had really bad acne when I was 11 or 12 years old. It was heart-rending, and people made fun of me. People whispered when I walked by in the hallways, and I was sure they were whispering about me. My adult perspective is maybe they weren't.
I started hearing people say, 'There's a blog about your hair, and there are all of these Tumblr accounts.' I'm like, 'What's Tumblr?' I'm pretty mystified by it, because I look around, and a lot of people have great hair.
Relaxing your hair is like being in prison. You're caged in. Your hair rules you. You didn't go running with Curt today because you don't want to sweat out this straightness. You're always battling to make your hair do what it wasn't meant to do.
At the end of the day, stick up for yourself whether you have spiky hair, long hair, blonde hair, black hair, whatever it is, stick up for yourself and go for your dreams because at the end of the day, you can pretty much accomplish anything if you put your mind to it.
My hair journey involved a lot of trying to figure out how to deal with my hair as a bi-racial girl in a white community living in Long Island, N.Y., where no one had a clue what to do with it.
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