You reach a certain age when the longest locks you can possibly grow simply isn’t on your agenda of tasks anymore. For me, this age is 27. 27 is an interesting one: it’s the first year you can’t argue your way out of the “late twenties” category, and yet for some who are lucky (like myself), it might also me the first year you don’t care to. I’m genuinely so relieved to finally feel this way – to accept the passing of time as an achievement rather