In
the 60’s, everyone wore their hair long, men and women. I grew mine past my shoulder blades, parted
it in the center, no bangs, and topped off the look with “John Lennon” specs.
It took my sister an hour or so every weekend to iron (yes, iron like in
Sunbeam with Steam) it straight. It was
that or sleep in 16-ounce can curlers.
In
the 70’s, I lopped off all my hair and went Afro. A severe Afro that stunk like burnt tires and
required a steel pick so dangerous it qualified as a lethal weapon. The poof
dwarfed my face and what was left was covered in large dark glasses that made
me look stoned.
In
the 80’s, the look was the wanton, “loose,” natural curl, the kind that created
long coils and fell “naturally” about the shoulders. It also cost three digits
and took half a morning to get the perm done. I couldn’t believe that I was paying
to put in what I was ironing out two decades before. I looked like the Cowardly
Lion spruced up to meet the Wizard, but I was in style.
In
the 90’s, it was time to do something about my gray. I refused to dye it so I frosted it blonde,
thus “easing” into old age. Eventually I went from ash-brown to tortoise shell
to totally blonde. Besides the expense, keeping up with it gave me as much gray
as the gray itself.
In
the 00’s, I went chocolate brown. For
once I looked good, but my hair grows very fast, faster than most folks, so I
had to spend lots of money (again) every month to get my roots redone. When I
skipped a month I looked like a skunk, white streaks running in straight lines
wherever my hair parted.
I
realized I had spent a lifetime looking like everyone else, forgetting that the
true road to happiness is to be yourself.
In
2008, I sheared it all off, as close to the scalp as possible, and after fifty
years of copying everyone else, I was dealing with my own hair
Old
habits die hard, so sometimes I discuss coloring it with my stylist. She tells
me that white-gray is the latest fad and clients of all ages come into the shop
everyday willing to pay three digits to have their hair done like mine.
Who
knew? Lookee me. I’m the latest fad.
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