If I had to describe my hair in a handful of words, they’d be: long, fine, straight, and slippery. So slippery, in fact, that it brings to mind the escargot Julia Roberts launches across the restaurant in Pretty Woman. That’s my hair in a nutshell—difficult to contain, impossible to grip, always ready to make a run for it.
Which makes one particular everyday hairstyle—the bun—an endless battle. Every time I twist my hair into a messy topknot, it takes all of ten minutes before it starts sliding apart, unraveling like a sweater caught on a nail. The only things that keep it in check? Industrial-strength texturizing spray or enough bobby pins to set off a metal detector.
The problem with that? I don’t want to spend ten minutes spraying and pinning every time I want my hair out of my face. I work from home (writing is not a “hair down” activity, at least not for me) and I take ballet-based Zoom classes a few times a week. Both require hair that stays put. And while I’d tried several “solutions,” nothing had quite worked.
The Hair Accessories That Failed Me
Like any desperate fine-haired person, I did my rounds of testing. First up was the octopus clip from Free People. It held up my bun “okay enough” but at the cost of digging into my scalp. Cute accessory, but comfort matters—and I don’t need a bun and a headache at the same time.
Next, I tried a claw clip from J. Crew. Comfortable? Absolutely. Effective? Not so much. My hair slipped right through like water through a sieve. I’d fix it, it would slide. I’d adjust, it would droop. Eventually, I gave up.
By this point, I figured I’d just have to resign myself to a life of pins, sprays, and irritation. Then I stumbled upon something that looked so odd, I nearly dismissed it: a jaw clip on the France Luxe website with not one but two rows of teeth.
The Strange but Brilliant Discovery
At first glance, this clip looked like something from a sci-fi movie—honestly, the creature with two mouths from Alien came to mind. But the description promised “superior grip,” and a couple of reviewers with similarly fine hair swore it worked for them.
I was skeptical, but desperate times call for desperate purchases. When it arrived, I clipped my hair up and immediately realized two things:
- It looked… weird.
- It worked like magic.
For the first time in forever, my bun didn’t budge. I could sit at my desk all day without readjusting, I could flop onto the couch without it collapsing, and—miracle of miracles—I could even get through ballet class with my bun still intact after petit allegro. (My bun survived. My pride? Less so. Let’s just say jumping is not my strong suit.)
Why This Clip Works When Others Don’t
The secret is that double row of teeth. Instead of your hair sliding through the clip like silk ribbon, the teeth interlock and hold onto every strand. It creates friction and structure in a way that standard claw clips just can’t. And unlike clips that dig in or pinch, this one feels surprisingly comfortable—even after wearing it all day.
It’s the difference between constantly fussing with your hair and actually forgetting you’re wearing a clip at all.
The Price Tag Dilemma
Now for the one downside: this miracle clip normally costs $38. I know—that’s a lot of money to shell out for something most of us expect to pick up at the drugstore for $6.
Here’s how I justified it:
- The quality is far superior. It’s sturdy, polished, and made to last.
- I caught it on sale during the holidays (30% off makes the sting easier).
- And when you think about how many flimsy drugstore clips I’ve bought, broken, and replaced over the years, the “investment” actually makes sense.
Could it be considered a little crazy to splurge on a hair clip? Sure. But when “crazy” results in a secure, comfortable bun that lasts all day, it feels like a pretty fair trade.
Living Happily Ever After With a Bun That Stays
These days, I don’t waste time with 37 bobby pins, and I don’t have to fog up my bathroom with sprays just to hold my hair in place. Instead, I twist, clip, and go. My bun stays exactly where I want it, whether I’m writing, Zoom dancing, or running errands.
And while $38 for a hair accessory once felt excessive, I now see it as buying peace of mind—and hair sanity.
After all, if a single clip can tame slippery, fine, impossible hair, isn’t that worth a little splurge?
Crazy? Maybe. But crazy with a secure, long-lasting bun is a kind of crazy I’ll happily live with.
