I just got my hair cut yesterday, I had to make an emergency appointment 3 weeks before my scheduled time, because I honestly couldn't take my hair the way it was one more day. This was especially true once I realized it was MY HAIR that was responsible for everything going wrong in my life. A big part of which, was an offense so vial, forgiveness may not be an option.
Somehow, my hair had unwittingly morphed me into some kind of serious, no-nonsense, corporate, Fat-Cat overnight! Okay, I actually have no idea what a no-nonsense, cooperate, Fat-Cat really is, but I know I don't want to be one, and I know I was looking at one in the mirror the other day, no one was standing behind me ( I looked).
You may be thinking - Isn't this too much pressure for one head of hair alone? I must feel some responsibility for my current condition of no-nonsense, corporate head. Well, I will agree to the fact that my hair didn't drive itself to the job interview, but that's it, because I'm not a serious grown up. I'm a card carrying member of the Peter Pan club, so by simple deduction this had to be the work of some other body part, and my hips, butt and thighs were on a mission to bust me out of every piece of clothing I owned, so they've been way too busy.
What is this thing with hair anyway? When did it get all of this power? Back in the fifty's you basically had 2 ways to go with your hair - back combed and down or back combed and up. Oh yeah, and you could add a little bow if you wanted.
I think we've given our hair way too much freedom now and it's getting cocky.
This morning my husband and I were getting ready for work in the bathroom, and he was in the midst of a full on battle with his Hair Devil, which I was finding equal parts hilarious and distressing, primarily due to my temporary bout of hair amnesia (inability to recall my own bad hair days). Then I looked in the mirror at what was supposed to be a head of glorious silky "Victoria Secret Bed Hair" - at least that was what I asked for at the salon the day before. I told my hairdresser my new hairstyle plan was to wash my hair before bed, then during the night, wistful tossing and turn as I slept would build a beautiful head full of bouncing waves and endless body into the strategically sliced layers in my golden strands. It was the perfect plan. My whole life had flashed before me in that moment I realized the answer to my hair woes. It would be so easy now, I would save so much time in the morning. I'd have time for other things, more important things, like morning exercise, or dog walks. I felt young again just thinking about it. My hairdresser assured me this was a great idea and would work like a charm. He was so supportive, so nurturing, he believed in my dreams for my utopian hair life, at least that was the $150 B.S. he dealt me that day (the hair crack peddler).
Unfortunately, this morning, what I saw looking back at me in the mirror was no utopian hair dream, it was more like a "mama wake me up" nightmare. I never saw this look between the pages of a Victoria Secret catalog. I never even saw this look in the Big Lots Mailer. My head looked like a hair sandwich wrap, slicked tight to my head with saran wrap - WTF! All I could think was, "Oh, it's on now you ungrateful strands of dead protein!". I heard my husband Kurt laughing from the living room, having already waved the white flag of surrender in his own war 15 minutes earlier - like that was really a war anyway, how can you have a war with something 1/2 inch long - please. Men are so lucky, not only do they have short hair (a.k.a. small enemy) they are able to pull a fatal TKO hair blow that ends their battle indefinitely when they've had enough - the cue ball look. That's why men who shave their heads always look so confident and tough. They stand victorious knowing they've beaten the hair bastard once and for all. That's what all those tattoos on their body are really about. That devil on their arm is symbolic for the hair devil, trust me.
If only there was a way for women to see this victory, head shaving is pretty radical, and my headbands would keep falling off. I needed another way and I was determined to find it and as we all know, when you put your mind to it, you can solve any problem, which I have done. Now I'll have perfect hair every day (See picture at top of article). It is a sketch of the wig I'm having made. Welcome back 1950's!