Anne Hathaway stepped out in London last night, sporting a brand new super short haircut. Apparently, the pixie cut is for a role. And that’s a good thing, because Anne doesn’t look to happy about it. In all the photos, she’s clutching her head in a very weird way. So either she’s sprouting a unicorn horn (as guessed by CC Editor Alex), or she’s really not feeling her new ‘do.

Check out the rest of the Anne Hathaway pics here, and click through the gallery to see 10 more celebs who underwent major hair transformations. Do you think these celebs look better with short hair?

I wouldn’t realize until I hit college that a haircut really can be life changing.

Before I hit college, the last haircut I had been subjected to was in second grade. I remember it clearly. Tears rolled down my face for the better part of a half hour as my relentless stylist yanked my hair with various combs and burned my neck with the curling iron. After that, I swore off cutting my hair, and for good reason: the pain wasn’t even worth it. Looking back at pictures of my as a little girl, my hair was always atrocious: rounded bobs and long bangs adorned my circular face and what little forehead I had. I must have never felt pretty, because judging by my pictures, I never was.  I decided to keep my scraggly long hair au naturel, thank you very much.

Then, at the age of 18, I moved from the rural Midwest to Boston to go to college and I felt myself transforming from country mouse to city mouse. Just like in all of the fairy tale-esque movies I never believed in, a fashionista took me under her wing and changed my life. She sat behind me in one of my classes and we ended up working together on a lot of projects. One day she looked lovingly at my long hair and mock turtleneck and said, “You have a lot of potential. Let me help you.” We tore up H&M and Anthropologie. The only thing left was my hair. “A bob,” she insisted. “You would look so ’20s hot!” I never did quite get what she ordered.

I set up an appointment at a cute little salon and went alone. I ended up chickening out and only getting about 3 inches taken off and a new side-swept part. It was a start, but my fashionista and I agreed that it wasn’t good enough.

Over spring break, I finally said “Screw it!” and took the plunge. Though my big city tastes were well-developed, I deigned to go to a beauty shop in my hometown for a $13 haircut. “Take it all,” I instructed my beautician. After making sure I really wanted to donate my hair to charity, she finally took it all off. For two days afterward, I was completely stunned without my hair. Then I was totally free.

I went back to Boston for the rest of the spring semester with a newfound positivity. It was just like in the movies: that cheapie haircut was more liberating than I ever imagined. Getting ready in the morning, working out, and about a hundred other things became much easier. Most importantly, for the first time in my life, I felt pretty.

So that’s my hair history. Now this is my call to my long-haired lady friends: don’t be afraid to chop off your tresses! For the longest time I viewed changing my style as a guaranteed failure. I never realized that I was actually holding myself back. Letting go of my hair completely changed the way I feel and act; I realize I can be bold and still come out ahead. In short, I found a whole new confidence that I wouldn’t give up for Rapunzel’s locks.

I finally understand how Sabrina Fairchild felt . . .

So this year, I’m making a New Year’s resolution to complete my entire list of New Year’s resolutions. And this means that I’ll either have to drastically improve my self-control, dedication and work ethic – not on the list – or I’ll have to drastically lower my expectations. Resolution #0 is to avoid anything that sounds like work, so here goes: the list of resolutions I know I can pull off.

Resolution #1: Stand around inside a gym regularly

I can’t understand why people think this one’s so hard – going to the gym, I’ve discovered, is easy; as long as I don’t hit a deer on the way, I can get there about nine out of ten attempts. And I’ve developed plenty of useful exercises to fill out an hour-long cardio workout: pressing buttons on the treadmill, switching my iPod playlist, going to the water fountain and estimating how many of me would fit in that guy’s biceps. I’ve planned a pretty good mat routine, too, but I don’t think I’ll be able to handle either the push-up or the modified (“girl”) push-up. Instead, I’ve developed the “modified girl push-up,” which is where I watch girls do push-ups.

Resolution #2: Spend less money on bad beer

I spent a lot of money on Keystone Light and Pabst Blue Ribbon last year. I could probably get around this by soldering my mouth shut or mailing my bank account to a Venezuelan drug cartel, but those are terribly inelegant solutions, I think. It’d be much more poetic to fulfill my resolution by spending more money on good beer. This one’s easy to keep, too, because once my account is dry, it’s impossible to buy any more Natural Light. It’ll just be me, my moral high ground, and several thousand cans of Guinness.

Resolution #3: Spend more time in Starbucks

Last year, I began to evolve into a Starbucksian. My eyesight is perfect, so I had mixed feelings when I discovered a tiny pair of thick-rimmed glasses actually growing on the bridge of my nose. But, you know, I think I’m going to roll with it, because I don’t mind the natural hair gel I’ve developed, and I appreciate how my stubble now stays at that “poetic bohemian” length.This means I need to devote more hours to my favorite coffee shop. I know, it’ll be tough, especially after I buy all that beer. But if drink enough Caramel Macchiatos, I think I’ll be able to grow a permanent zip-up turtleneck fleece; my skin’s already getting fuzzy. I’ve already got the Starbucks Gold Card; maybe I should see if I can upgrade to the Starbucks Platinum I.V. Convenience itself!

Resolution #4: Care less

The whole presidential election thing, man, that was a lot of caring. I cared about so many things. My heart grew three sizes and shone like a star. But as stars grow larger, they die, and so will my heart if I don’t give it a rest. I’m going to be strict about this: I’ll set up a Caring List, and plot my caring reductions over the course of the year. I’ll start by caring about big things, like “do I need a haircut yet” and “what’s for dinner tonight?” Hopefully, by March, I’ll be down to “can I sleep comfortably without moving the pizza boxes” and “do these count as pants.” By the end of the semester, I plan on caring solely about whether or not I am currently on fire.

Resolution #5: Make more awesome New Year’s Resolutions

Hey, these were pretty easy! 2009′s turning up roses already. I think I should brainstorm for next year, while I’m at it. How about having sex, playing video games and skipping class? Wasting time on the Internet? Taking fewer showers? The possibilities are endless – help me out, folks!

Boy cuts are all the rage…at least for Scientologists. First Katie Holmes chopped her locks and then Posh Spice followed suit. The new ‘do is rather hard to pull off, but both of these ladies are looking mighty glam with the drastic cut.

But which one does it better?

On my list of all-time most annoying things in the entire world, having long hair ranks right up there with people who purposely screech their fingernails on chalkboards and drivers who cut you off and then give you the finger.

I don’t mind long hair on other people (especially guys, ‘cuz that’s hot). I mind long hair on me. My hair is so unimaginably thick that any significant length just makes it fall flat and stick to my skull. I once tried to get a perm, but my hair was flat again within an hour. How screwed up is that?

Plus, I’m a low-maintenance kind of girl, and I just don’t have the patience for long hair. It takes forever to shampoo and condition, and brushing it in the morning takes 30 seconds that I could really spend doing something else (sadly, I’m serious).

So since about the age of 12, I’ve never had hair longer than shoulder-length. Too much work! I’ve known about Locks of Love for a while, but I just figured I’d never have hair long enough to be able to donate.

Locks of Love, for those of you not familiar with it, is a charity organization that uses hair donations to fashion cool hairpieces for children who are bald or losing their hair for a variety of medical reasons. It’s a great cause, and the kids really appreciate the hairpieces.

Unfortunately, you have to chop off at least 10 full inches of hair to donate. You can have layered hair with 10 inches being the length of the longest layer, but still, that’s a lot of hair.

Well, somehow, through a crazy fluke that involved me not getting my hair cut for two years, I had about nine inches of hair to spare near the end of this past year. Since I was so close to the minimum donation length for Locks of Love, I decided to suffer through the maintenance and grow it out until it was long enough to donate.

I am so glad I did. I feel fantastic for helping such a worthy cause, and my new haircut is freaking amazing. I look good. And there’s not only that—if you donate to Locks of Love, many nice salons will give you a great cut for free. Mine did, and that haircut wouldn’t have come cheap otherwise.

So if you’ve got some length to spare, think about Locks of Love. You’ll be making a kid happy and giving yourself a hot new look, and there’s no better combination than that.

I was never really attached to my hair until I spent three years growing it out and discovered how amazing long hair can be. It’s versatile, insulating, attention-getting, and the perfect thing to hide behind when I want to take a quick nap in class.But, long hair demands a ton attention, guzzles shampoo and somehow becomes a receptacle for meals. The other week I almost had it when my eight inch ponytail got caught in a subway door. When your hair becomes hazardous to your health, it’s time to consider a cut.

Yesterday, I went and got my first (professional) haircut in six years. Yeah, no more dorm-room cuts from Celeste the hippie-hairdresser for me! I ponied up thirty bucks for this “trim,” and to my dismay, I ended up looking not like my old self — sans split ends, but resemling a local news anchorwoman. It’s pretty bad. My new, sculpted coif doesn’t exactly represent my personality and most definitely doesn’t go with my threadbare – and – holes themed wardrobe.

So, I’ve reached a fork in the road: Do I continue down the path of less resistance and wait for the layers to eradicate themselves and form split ends again? OR… do I chop it all off? I’ve been having fantasies about the latter, and while it seems like it would be liberating, I’m pretty sure I’d regret it in a week. Or an hour.

I mean, Selma Blair wears the fiercest pixie cut on the continent, but seeing recent pics of Katie Holmes’s new do, I’m thinking maybe the short cut is only for true crazies (with excellent bone structure).

Turns out little baby Suri already has a weekly hair appointment. Now, maybe I’m just jealous since I can’t do this and have horrible roots down to my ears, but—she can’t have that much hair! I think it’s a toupee. Even stranger, says the tipster, is the fact that she is always naked and no one is allowed to speak in her presence.

Holy crazy people, Batman!

Read full story (and other interesting celeb goss) here.